


The Manor House on Orchard Hill

by batty4u



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Kinda, M/M, if you're thinking pride and prejudice, regency au, youve got the right idea
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-01-17 15:50:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1393459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/batty4u/pseuds/batty4u
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the year 1835 it only made sense for Lord Harvey Specter, an unwed viscount, to find a wife, settle down, and raise a family of his own. Trouble was he seemed completely uninterested in the entire affair. Luckily, or rather, unluckily, his mother had a plan to solve that, because what better way to stir up a whirlwind romance than throwing a ball? (regency england au)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ok so you all remember that valentines day fic that got ridiculously out of proportion? this is it. lots of research was done so things should be fairly accurate but as always, I may have made some mistakes. And suspend your disbelief in some places, obviously the average person was not ok with homosexuality in the 1800s, but for this fic, it's kind of needed. 
> 
> hope you enjoy, feel free to leave a comment or kudos

There was to be a Ball.

Harvey had always hated them. He’d never seen the purpose of putting on a charade solely to entertain the townspeople and other esteemed families nearby. He wanted nothing to do with their gossip or petty manipulations or marriage plots. Because he knew why his mother was hosting said ball. She wanted him married, married and out of her hair. He was Lord of the Manor, now that his father had passed. He had no time for marriage, even thoughts of it, nor did he particularly want anything to do with a commitment that would likely end in unhappy days. And for some reason, now that she knew how miserable the prospect of marriage made him, she was more adamant than ever to see him tied off to some hapless bride.  
Maybe it was simply because he was too much like his father to see the point in such frivolous, social things, but when his mother announced at breakfast that there was to be a ball at Specter Manor within a week, Harvey felt nothing more than panic and nausea. 

“Darling must you make that face?” His mother asked, setting down her tea.

“I have a name, mother, please use it.”

She scowled at him. “Harvey, you’re being petulant and difficult. It’s unbecoming.”

“On you perhaps,” He offered her a tense smile. “I find it suits me perfectly.” 

His brother, Marcus, laughed. “As does the scowl on your face and the furrow in your brow, old man.”

“If you keep that up, I’ll have mother marry you off first, see if you like it.”

“Your brother will find a wife in his own time,” Their mother chided. “But Harvey, you-”

“If you’re about to say I need a wife, then I will asked to be excused,” He said curtly, folding his napkin and standing. “There’s accounts to go over if this ball is to happen, and seeing as neither of you are capable...”

“Harvey,” his mother made to argue.

“Mother,” He said with a short nod, before leaving them to their meal. He could hear Marcus’ trill of laughter as he went and it was the only thing that kept the morning from being a complete loss.

An hour later, as he was reviewing the accounts and writing out a correspondence to his former classmate in regards to his new legal firm, there was a sharp rapping at his window. He didn’t look up, knowing full well that the creak of the window being opened from the outside and the labored breath was simply Donna, the housekeeper and his closest friend.

“So I heard your mother’s planning a ball,” She said, dropping onto the window seat with surprising grace, considering she’d just climbed through a second floor window. Her red hair was braided tightly in a crown atop her head, skirts tied at her knees, shoes forgotten on the ground below. “How miserable has she made you over it?”

“I’m fine, Donna,” Harvey told her, making a note on the ledger before setting it aside. “She’s welcome to her silly parties.”

“Silly parties meant to marry you off,” Donna corrected. Harvey stood from his seat and went to join her, lifting her legs so he could sit. She stretched out and rested her feet across his lap. “That is the point of this innit?”

“I suppose.”

She regarded him for a moment, then reached for his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. “I would say she just wants what’s best for you but-”

Harvey laughed. “But she wants me married and reproducing so the estate stays in our family more.”

“Sadly.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know what she thinks is going to come of this. I mean, if it were you and I getting married that’d be one thing.” He ignored the face Donna made at the suggestion. “But you’ve adamantly refused me so it’s out of the question. I don’t see why she can’t just let it go.”

“Because she’s a mother. They never know how to let go of their children.”

“We could always poison her afternoon tea,” he suggested.

“Oh don’t be so melodramatic.”

“No I suppose you’re right. Funerals are too expensive.” He grinned at her.

She shifted so that she was tucked under his arm. “Or you could just stomach the ball, find a nice girl and be done with it.” She looked up at him. “Or find a nice lad and just not tell your mother.” Harvey snorted. “Oh you’d hardly be the first to do so. There’s that Lord Darby-”

“Please don’t compare me to that vulture, please,” Harvey begged her. 

“Well he didn’t exactly have a terrible idea now did he?” she asked.

“The man was married with a daughter,” Harvey said. “That negates anything positive about his actions.”

“Fine, fine, be that way,” Donna threw up her hands on mock exasperation. “At least try to pretend you’re enjoying yourself, or your mother will make you more miserable still.”

“I don’t suppose you’ve seen the list of those invited?” he asked her. 

“No, not yet, but I do know Miss Scott, Mr Zane and his daughter, Baron Litt, and Vicar Hardman will likely be present, as they always are.” Harvey groaned and shut his eyes. “Oh stop it.”

“Can’t you just run me over with a carriage or something?”

“Sorry, if I have to suffer through this as your head of staff you have to suffer through it as lord of the manor.”

“Some friend you are,” he groused. She laughed and kissed his cheek. 

“Chin up, love. I’ll see you later, I’ve got to make sure the girls have the laundry in order and that your mother’s invitations are properly delivered.”

“Tell me the list when you’re certain of it?”

She stood on the window seat and began climbing out the window again. “Sure thing, captain.”

“Be careful.”

She vanished just as Marcus came hurrying into the room. “Harvey, who’re you talking to?”  
“No one, Marcus, no one.”

His brother raised an eyebrow. “You’re a horrible liar.”

“Only to you.”

Marcus smiled and dropped onto the seat next to his brother. “Look, I understand you being upset about this whole affair but… You will try to enjoy yourself, won’t you?”

“And why should I bother? Mother will have a wonderful time either way and no matter what I will still be a bachelor by night’s end.”

“Because I want you to enjoy yourself,” Marcus said. “And I want us to… To… Do you remember Christmas, when you and I attended Aunt Bernadette’s holiday ball? And we had such fun dancing and teasing those spoilt girls mother tried to have us escort?”

He did remember. It had been a wonderful night, of festivities and merriment. But, he solemnly reminded himself, it had also been before Marcus had caught the fever and before his father had died. Things had changed. Marcus wouldn’t be able to dance as much, if at all, due to how frail the fever had left him. Their father wasn’t there to lead the band as he always had. He had responsibilities now, actual responsibilities, that didn’t allow for the same luxuries he’d had as a child.

But Marcus was looking at him with expectant, pleading, blue eyes and he felt himself sigh. “Alright. Alright, I will try. but I promise you, the moment mother starts introducing possible suitors, I reserve my right to be miserable.”

His brother laughed. “Fine, fine.” His gaze wandered to the desk, littered with paperwork. “Can… Can you show me how to…” he waved at them.

“What, the accounts?” Marcus nodded. “You hate numbers.”

“Well I’ll need to learn at some point. And I don’t want you holed up here by yourself like a hermit.” It was Marcus’ way of saying I’m worried about you, let me help.

“Alright then.”

The next day, Donna had the list of guests.

As expected, Vicar Hardman, Baron Litt, Mr Zane, and Miss Scott were all asked to attend, as were Lady Pearson the Countess of Haddington, much to Harvey’s delight, Lady Hessington, whom Harvey had yet to properly meet, Lord Darby and his family, to which Harvey groaned extensively. Other local families had been invited as well, names he wasn’t familiar with, which mean they had daughters his mother thought might make good brides. Harvey tried not to be bitter about it, they’d make for polite conversation and maybe a pleasant dance before the night was done. 

“This family has three daughters, only one is married,” Donna told him, as they sat in the garden. “This one has only one daughter and she’s the quiet bookish type. Sweet girl, name’s Marcy I believe. But not looking for marriage either, which is adorable.”

“So long as a dance isn’t equal to proposal it will be a fine evening,” Harvey said, staring up at the clouds rolling over head. He was starting to think, between the servants excited chatter, Donna’s reassurance, and his brother’s giddy smile whenever the ball was mentioned, that maybe it wouldn’t be such a horrific affair.

Then of course, as always, his mother proved him wrong. 

“What do you mean arriving tomorrow morning?”

His mother looked up from her book with a passive smile. “Who do you mean, darling?”

Harvey took a steadying breath. “I’ve been told Dana Scott is to be arriving tomorrow morning.”

“Oh yes, I thought it best that you two have some time to catch up. This way she’s already here for the ball and she’s been meaning to look into the town, possibly purchase a home and settle not far from here. Isn’t that wonderful? You two could strike up your friendship again.”

No, it was not wonderful.

“Next time, tell me when you decide to bring my ex fiancée into my home,” He snapped. She seemed shocked that her actions had offended him, because she’d been the one to plan the damn engagement in the first place. Of course she wouldn’t think that being forced to share a house, no matter the size, with Miss Dana Scott after their falling out would be any sort of trouble.

Marcus found him in the kitchens. “You know, for a viscount, you spend far too much time sulking down here, brother.”

Harvey just waved him off, too busy helping Cook peel apples. She was an older woman, one he’d known since childhood, one who, when Donna wasn’t around, was content to listen to his miserable complaints and offer her motherly advice. “It’s the only place I can think around you people.”  
Cook scolded him softly. “Don’t talk to your brother like that. And you, sit and eat something. You’re still far too skinny for my taste.” Marcus dropped into a vacant chair and let her pour him some stew she’d been making for dinner. 

“You never told me what happened with you and Miss Scott,” Marcus said, through mouthfuls of food. Harvey shook his head. “No, you didn’t, and you should. All I remember is one day you’re talking about how perfect your wedding would be and the next poof-” he tosses up a hand, “She’s leaving for London and you’re storming around the place livid.”

“What happened,” Cook answered for him. “Was that this one let love go to his head and he picked a girl who wasn’t ready to commit to the married life. It’s a mistake everyone makes at some point or another.”

“You hated Miss Scott,” Harvey reminds her.

“She broke your heart, it’s my job to hate her.” The old woman sniffed and gathered up the peeled apples. “Besides your mother loved her enough for all the staff.”

“Isn’t that the honest truth…”

“Maybe she’s changed?” Marcus offered, hopefully. “Maybe she’s coming back because she realized she loves you and-”

“It shouldn’t have taken her six years to realize she loves me, Marcus,” Harvey said. “She’s coming back because mother invited her and maybe, possibly, she has regrets. But I highly doubt its the kind of love you think it is.”

“When on earth did you get so cynical?”

“When I became the man of the house.”

“You sure it wasn’t those years you spent at Oxford?”

“No, when he came home from his studies he was bright eyed and ready to change the world,” Cook chimed in from the stove. “He had the same light in his eyes that your father had.”

Marcus nodded, solemnly. “Well then you’re not allowed to die. Because if being man of the house makes you this goddamn miserable, I don’t ever want the job.”

“Language, Marcus.”

“Sorry, ma’am.”

“Lucky for you kid,” Harvey told him, messing up his brother’s curls, “I plan to be around a long, long while.”

“Good.”

“Now eat your soup before Cook makes you chop the onions.”

It was easier to place all the blame on Miss Scott, blame her entirely for why their attempt at love and marriage had fallen apart. But Harvey knew he was just as much as fault. He’d been naive and stupid, convinced he’d make her happy. In the end, he hadn’t been enough. He’d been selfish and stubborn and hot tempered. He’d been convinced that he’d do it better than his mother and father had, that Miss Scott would be faithful and would love him and things would be as they were in stories. He’d been wrong.

Granted her having an affair with a charming American may have added to their unhappy situation. But Harvey was mature enough, in private anyway, to place some of the blame on himself. 

He didn’t want her in his home again. He’d spent so much time building up his defenses, making the Manor a haven for himself and his brother, that the last thing he wanted, the last thing he needed, was a ghost from his past, barreling in and ruining everything. Because Miss Scott never did anything subtly or gently. She took what she wanted, when she wanted it, and didn’t realize until much later the damage her actions might cause. Harvey wasn’t even sure he remembered how to handle her sharp and commanding demeanor, what after six years apart. 

He spent the night worrying over what to wear, how to address her, how to behave, what to say, what to think even, practicing before the mirror like a nervous school boy, and as the first light of morning made itself known, it found him asleep at his desk. He missed breakfast, where his mother announced to the staff that Miss Scott would be arriving before noon. He missed the frantic preparations, the maids preparing the rooms, the stable master readying the carriage, the gardeners making last minute adjustments to the roses and shrubs that graced the front of the Manor House. He missed all of it, until Donna came to find him, exasperated and tired.

“Oh for goodness sakes, this is where you are?” She shouted, waking Harvey from his sleep. 

“What’s happened?” he slurred, bleary eyed as he gazed around the dark room. Donna threw open the drapes and he groaned, covering his eyes. “Gently, Donna, ge-”

“There’s no time for gentle coddling, Miss Scott is here and you aren’t even dressed!” She began digging through the wardrobe. “I mean honestly you’re a grown man how is it you can’t even dress yourself and be punctual.”

Sure enough, when Harvey reached the window, a carriage was making it’s way up the drive. He swore, of course his luck would be that bad.

By the time the carriage had reached the house, Harvey had washed up and begun dressing. The rest of the household had assembled outfront to greet their guests and, as viscount, he was meant to be there as well. No doubt his mother was livid as she greeted Miss Scott with a fondness she never showed her sons. The staff, on the other hand, maintained their required politeness, but whatever fondness they’d held for Miss Scott when she’d first visited them six years prior, was gone. 

“Donna where’s-”

“Trousers are there, put them on and go for goodness sake!”

“My jacket, I need-”

“Just go!” Donna shouted at him, shoving him out the door. He tugged his trousers on and tried to tuck in his shirt as he hurried through the house, Donna following with his boots, cravat, and jacket. His hair was a mess, his clothing disheveled and crooked, and as he made for the main stairwell, he slipped and tumbled downward, landing with a loud curse in the foyer. 

“Well, it’s good to see you’ve not lost any of your spirit, Lord Specter,” a soft, and only mildly judgemental voice said above him. He groaned and opened his eyes, looking up into the face of one Miss Dana Scott, as beautiful and sharp as he remembered. Donna scrambled to help him up, ignoring look from their guest.

“Miss Scott,” He said, his mouth dry as he tried to fix his clothes. “My apologies for not being there to properly greet you. I was uhm… My studies kept me up far later than I had originally intended.”

She raised a delicate eyebrow. “I thought your days at Oxford were long over, my lord.”

“Ah they are but, well, I don’t believe that learning should end when one leaves school,” Harvey said quickly. “You look well.”

“I am well,” She replied.

And there it was. The tension, the uncertainty between strangers, the wariness that time brought. She was still as beautiful as she had ever been, her dark hair curled delicately away from her face, eyes bright and quizzical and dark. She was dressed in fair blue and white, lace gloves on her delicate hands. And Harvey felt small and young in her presence. It terrified him. 

“Miss Scott!”

The tense air was broken as the pattering of footsteps filled the air and two footmen joined them in the foyer, the rest of the Specter household making their way back to their chores. Miss Scott gave a sharp sigh and turned to the two men, or rather, boys. The first was fair skinned, with dark hair and equally dark eyes and he was handsome in the way that made you wonder if he might pick your pockets with a smile before the day was through. The second was younger, with bright blue eyes and long limbs and Harvey could practically see the nervous agitation coursing through him. He stood in the shadow of his companion, his clever eyes darting from face to face in silence. 

“Yes?” she replied.

The first footman answered. “Your things have been taken to your chambers, Miss.”

“Thank you, Trevor.”

“Things?” Harvey echoed in surprise. 

“Yes, my lord, things,” Miss Scott replied teasingly. “I am to stay until the ball, perhaps longer.”

“Right.”

She smiled at him. “Forgetful as ever, I see.”

That made the second footman giggle. Harvey looked to him with a scowl, but that only seemed to egg his laughter on further. Miss Scott raised her delicate eyebrow again and he fell silent, face red. “Sorry, Miss.”

“Will there be anything else you acquire, Miss Scott?” The first, Trevor, asked in a clipped, professional voice. 

“No, you boys go handle the rest of the luggage.”

“Very good miss.”

Trevor gave a curt nod and turned to go, the second footman lingering a half second, blue eyes on Harvey’s disheveled appearance with a small smile, before he hurried to follow.

“Odd little thing,” Harvey said.

“Forgive them, they are young and rather inexperienced.” Miss Scott smoothed the front of her dress. “They’ve only been in service to me for a month or so, their grandmother is a dear friend.”

“Ah, I see. Charity work then.”

“Something of that sort.”

“Well then I am sure the staff here will do well to teach them proper.” 

And the silence and tension fell again. They shared hesitant smiles and that was all they could do. Harvey was grateful when his mother swept in and started to scold him.

“Goodness gracious, boy, what are you-” She sputtered upon seeing him. He was standing barefoot and half dressed in the foyer, no wonder she was appalled. It made him smile though, seeing the furious color in her cheeks. “Go, go and make yourself proper and stop embarrassing yourself for heavens sake.”

“Miss Scott,” Harvey said, by means of excusing himself. She laughed him away and he had never been more happy to be locked back in his bedchambers at midday. He dropped onto his bed with a groan and willed himself to be forgotten by the household. 

“That was pitiful,” Donna called from the door.

Harvey simply groaned in reply.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in the company of his mother and Miss Scott, touring the house, the gardens, and trying his best not to lose his mind. Their idle chatter about everything Miss Scott had done in the past six years (she had lived in New york for a year, traveled for another, stayed in Italy for a summer), about her prospective future (considering marriage, her father might purchase a home nearby), about her newfound likes and dislikes (she had taken a liking to the violin and raspberries, but was not fond of the seaside), about her father and his health (he’d developed soreness in his back as of late), it was all enough to drive any man mad. Marcus was lucky, he escaped the outings by claiming to be too fatigued. Harvey knew he was lying through his smile, but as the favorite son, Marcus would get away with just about anything. 

By the time they had gathered for supper and Miss Scott returned to her rooms, Harvey was exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to barricade himself in his rooms and stay there for the remainder of the week. 

Of course, with his ever worsening luck, sleep evaded him. 

So he took to wandering the house. Marcus had always teased him about the habit, about how he paced the halls and lingered in the library, how it made him seem like an old hermit with too many thoughts on his mind. But it eased his nerves a little and eventually he’d find himself back in his chambers able to sleep for an hour or so. That night in particular he made for the library, hoping a bit of reading might clear his head. The house was quiet as he made his way there, the darkening sky soft beyond the windows. 

To his surprise the lamps were lit and someone had already made themselves comfortable skimming the shelves of books. 

It was the second footman, whose name Harvey hadn’t been given. He had shed his coat at some point, his hair messy and his cravat loose around his neck. His thin fingers trailed along the spins of the books in reverence as his lips formed silent words. He was a pretty sight, lit by the candles and the small fire still burning from earlier in the afternoon. It was almost as if he belonged there, Harvey thought to himself, watching for a moment from the doorway. Eventually he cleared his throat and stepped inside.

“It’s not often I find a footman hiding in my library,” he said, leaning up against the door. 

The boy jumped, scrambling away from the shelves in a panic, his face going red in the dim light. “I’m sorry!”

Harvey pressed a finger to his lips. “Shush, don’t wake the house.”

“I’m sorry,” the boy repeated, tacking on a rushed, “my lord” as if he’d forgotten.

“Can’t sleep?”

He shook his head. “No, sir. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to intrude I-”

Harvey raised a hand. “That’s three apologies in as many minutes. It’s alright. Were I angry, you would know.” That earned him a small smile. “What’s your name?”

“Michael, sir,” the boy replied, and his accent made Harvey pause. “Michael Ross.”

“You’re Scottish?”

“Yes sir.” Michael smiled at him. “Though I’ve lived ‘ere since I was a boy. With my gram.”

“Yes, Miss Scott had mentioned her.” Harvey closed the door and moved into the room. “You’ve not been with her long, I take it.”

“No sir, just a month or so. She uhm, offered me the job when my Gram got ill.”

“I’m sorry to hear of her poor health.” 

The boy just smiled at him, a mask Harvey himself was quite familiar with. “Thank you, sir.”

“Did you find your way here on your own or did one of the maids show you where the Library was?” Though honestly his money was on Marcus. 

“No. I found it myself.”

“Were you looking for it?”

Michael looked nervous and shook his head. “No I uhm, I got lost sir.”

Harvey laughed. “Lost? Heavens, where were you meant to end up?”

“My rooms, sir. We had finished tending to Miss Scott, Trevor and I were to retire for the night. He went on ahead. I got lost.” He shrugged. “It is a big house, innit?”

That made Harvey smile. “Yes, it is a big house.” He glanced at the shelves. “See anything you like?”

The boy paused, seeming unsure if Harvey was trying to trick him. He waved him on curious to see what it was a young scottish footman could possibly be interested in, in his father’s library. Gordon had spent years and years building it up that by the time he had died, they had lost track of what titles were on the shelves. Harvey knew there was a little bit of everything, sure, but the exact subjects and names, well, he’d forgotten them. 

“You’ve got Shakespeare’s plays,” Michael said after a moment. “All of them.”

Oh really? Harvey hadn’t realized. “And you like shakespeare?”

“Yessir,” Michael said, the formality slowly slipping away. “Yes, Gram and I used to read the plays when she was well enough. I enjoy them. A Lot.”

“I hadn’t realized footmen read shakespeare as a hobby,” Harvey said.

“Well maybe there’s more to us footmen than you first thought,” Michael shot back. He paled and added, “My lord.”

“You’re a curious little thing,” Harvey mused aloud. He went to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a whiskey. “Would you like a drink, Michael?”

“I… uh, me sir?”

“Yes you, unless there’s another Michael hiding in the woodwork somewhere.”

Michael stared at him in confusion. “But I’m a footman, my lord.” Harvey noted the hurried attempts to maintain propriety.

“I’m aware of that. I’m also aware that your lady is asleep and no longer in need of your services, that we are both apparent insomniacs, and that you enjoy shakespeare.” He turned to him. “So I’ll ask again, would you care for a drink?”

The was a pause, and a moment of clear hesitation, before Michael smiled and gave a small nod. “Thank you sir.”

Harvey poured them both drinks and handed a glass to Michael, before settling down on the sofa by the fire. “So, which play do you favor most?”

“The Tempest, sir.” Michael sipped his drink warily.

“I don’t think I’ve read that one.”

“What?” The shock in his voice made Harvey want to laugh. “Really? I mean… Sorry, my lord, not to offend, but…”

“No, it’s alright. I never had the taste for Shakespeare. My brother always prefered theater more than I did.”

“Well…” Michael looked at his glass with a furrowed brow. It was endearing. “Perhaps you’d give it another try, sir?”

Harvey raised an eyebrow. “Do you intend to perform the entire show by yourself, Michael?”

“I… No don’t be ridiculous I simply meant,” he paled and quickly reworded his reply. “Not at all, my lord. I thought perhaps, were you in the mood for some entertainment, that I might read to you while you enjoyed your drink.”

“You know, since we are alone, you don’t have to be so damn proper about everything.” Harvey took a drink and settled back against the sofa. “I won’t hold it against you.”

“But, but you are the viscount,” Michael argued. “It would be a disservice to you to address you in any other way, my lord.”

Harvey turned his head to look at him. “Yes, you are right. But it also nearing ten o’clock at night, no one is here to scold you, and I’m taking a break from being the mighty viscount.” he nodded to his drink. “Hence the liquor.”

“So then, how should I address you sir, since you are taking a break from being the mighty viscount?” Michael asked, teasing Harvey with a smile.

“My name is Harvey. If you do not wish to call me that, you can call me… I don’t know, Mr Specter I suppose, but that just sounds odd to me right now.”

“Harvey,” Michael repeated, testing the name on his tongue. Harvey found he quite like the way it sounded on the boy’s lips. “Alright then, Harvey. Would you like me to read the Tempest to you?”

“Why not.”

Michael beamed at him and set down his drink, skimming the shelves for the proper book. When he had found it he sat down on the floor between Harvey and the fire and settled in to read, the light of the fire casting beautiful orange and gold shadows across his features.  
“ACT I,” Michael began to read, “SCENE I. On a ship at sea: a tempestuous noise of thunder and lightning heard. Enter a Master and a Boatswain.”  
Harvey closed his eyes and listened to the young man read, his voice soft and pleasant, the liveliness with which he read each line bringing a smile to Harvey’s face. Michael was an excellent reader, well practiced and articulate, far more so than Harvey would have expected from a footman. It made him wonder if he’d had any schooling, or if being a footman was really suited to his level of intelligence, because with the ease he showed handling something as trying as Shakespeare, he was obviously more clever than he let on. But Harvey let that curiosity rest for the moment, and simply enjoyed the company, and the feeling of Michael pressed against his leg.  
When the room fell silent some time later, how long exactly Harvey wasn’t sure, he roused himself and looked down to where Michael had been sitting. The boy was sound asleep, book opened in his lap, head resting against Harvey’s knee. The clock on the mantle showed a quarter past one and Harvey swore softly under his breath. 

Carefully, he took the book from Michael and set it aside, before gathering him up in his arms. Like a child, Michael simply muttered in his sleep and curled around Harvey, hiding his face in the older man’s neck. With one hand he closed the grate on the fire so it would die properly and carried Michael upstairs. He was sure that, if he took Michael to the servants’ quarters, someone would rat on him to Miss Dana, or worse Harvey’s mother, and he’d face pointless consequences. So with that as his reasoning, he carried Michael to his own chambers and set him on the daybed by the windows, tucking him in as gently as possible, before heading to bed himself in the next room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things start to get a little complicated

To everyone’s surprise, even his own, Harvey was the first to awake that next morning. The sky was pale and warming with the rising sun, the gardens still damp from the morning frost, the air crisp and cool with the taste of winter on the wind. Normally with so little sleep he’d have taken a few more hours to rest and linger in bed, before grumbling his way down to breakfast with the family. But on that Tuesday morning, he was up with the sun, running his own bath, tidying his own room, and dressing before the household was even stirring. Of course, he might reason later that it was because of the footman still dozing on the daybed in the next room, but really he felt rather good that morning.

“Come on, Michael,” He commanded gently, trying to wake the young man. It took a bit of effort, but the boy shot up once he realized he wasn’t in his proper quarters.

“Oh god, I’m sorry!” he said, scrambling away from Harvey. “I’m sorry my lord I didn’t mean-”

“You really do panic for no reason at all,” Harvey commented with a grin. “Relax, you fell asleep in the library last night. Bringing you here seemed easier than sneaking you into the servants quarters and trying to avoid all those awkward questions.”

Michael still seemed unsure. “But uhm, I, you-”

“I was feeling charitable,” Harvey said dryly. “Now come on, if you hurry, we can return you to your quarters before anyone knows you’ve gone missing.” He led the way out into the corridor, Michael taking a moment to absorb what was happening, for hurrying to follow.

The house was fairly silent, the only apparent sounds were their footsteps echoing off the stone and plaster walls. Harvey kept a brisk pace, the footman staring around at the art on the walls and the various decor Harvey’s father had taken great care to install, with a gaping expression. 

“May I speak freely milord?” Michael asked as they made their way out to the courtyard.

“Why not.”

“You seem quite unlike most viscounts.”

“Have you met many viscounts, Michael?”

“No sir, just… You hear about them in town. And they all seem much more pompous and prim than you.” It was an awkward compliment, but one that came with an honest smile. “I can’t think of another who’d bother to keep a simple footman out of trouble, for example.”

Harvey laughed and stopped outside the servants quarters. “Well I shall take that as the compliment I think it to be. You’ll find things here at the Manor are a little unorthodox, but we like it that way.”

“I think I will too sir,” Michael assured him. “Thank you for escorting me.”

“Stay out of trouble,” Harvey warned, but it was light hearted and it made Michael laugh, before he disappeared through the door. 

And with that, the morning was his own. 

“You went for a ride? Before breakfast?” his mother asked, incredulously at breakfast a couple hours later. “Whatever for?”

“You hardly need a reason to go for a ride, mother,” Harvey said with a shrug. “I was simply up with enough time to make something of the early morning. A ride seemed fitting.”

“It’s freezing out in the early mornings, you’ll catch a chill and then all this fussing about the ball will be for naught.”

“Careful mother, you’ll give him ideas,” Marcus warned with a teasing smile.

“He wouldn’t dare,” Lady Lily said. “If he did I would make him miserable.”

“I dare say if you could make me more miserable than you have thus far, I would be thoroughly impressed,” Harvey replied, looking up from his food with a smile of his own. The lines around his mother’s thin lips and harsh green eyes tightened as she tried to keep her composure. It was a sight Harvey enjoyed seeing. “Not to worry, mother, I have no intention of ruining your fun. After all, Miss Scott would have traveled all this way for nothing and I do enjoy any opportunity when I can be in the presence of the Countess.”

That made the delicate lines stand out even more as her pale face morphed into a scowl. “Please tell me you don’t intend to spend the entire evening with that wretched woman?”

“Mother, she is the countess, calling her wretched is uncouth,” Marcus reminded her.

“She’s not here to witness it, what does it matter,” Lady Lily spat. “She is a wretched woman who has taken advantage of your time for years, Harvey. And I find it scandalous and silly that you continuously fawn over her.”

“And,” Miss Scott interrupted, “Whom, may I ask, is it that has your heart enthralled, Lord Harvey?”

“She hardly has my heart enthralled,” Harvey assured her. “The Countess of Haddington is simply a dear friend and scholarly colleague.” His mother gave an indignant huff. “She is a widow ten years my senior, I have no intentions of marrying her. It is not the custom for young enterprising men to do so. Were it otherwise however…”

Miss Scott laughed at his teasing smile. “You’re incorrigible.”

“I am.”

“She’s hardly proper company for a lady like yourself, Miss Scott,” Lady Lily said. “A wild thing with horrible taste.”

“All her clothing is shipped in from Paris and Milan, how is that horrible taste?” Harvey argued. “She has shoes made of venetian glass simply for the sake of saying she has shoes made of venetian glass. How is that horrid taste, mother?”

“Because it simply is!”

Marcus cut in before the two of them could start shouting across the table. “Miss Scott are you going into town today? There is a lovely theater there, and gardens abound for the public to enjoy.”

“Yes, Lady Lily and I had spoken of visiting,” Miss Scott said, hiding her smile behind the rim of her glass. “And that your brother and yourself might accompany us, if you were feeling well enough.”

“I would be honored to accompany you, Miss Scott.”

“Then your brother can stay here and tend to the house,” Lady Lily snapped.

“What?”

“You heard me, you and your petulance can stay here amongst your books and your numbers and your spinster habits.” The color in her cheeks was in so sharp a contrast to her pale complexion that it made Harvey want to laugh. Luckily, one of their own footman entered with a letter before he could.

“Lady Hessington is unable to attend the ball this Saturday,” their mother read in a tight voice. “Lord Darby also sends his regrets.” She sighed and tossed the letter away. “Well what good is it to have a ball without the most esteemed guests present?”

“Perhaps we can have the ball another night mother,” Marcus said soothingly. “Perhaps the saturday next. That is if Miss Scott wouldn’t mind staying another week with us.” Harvey opened his mouth to argue but his brother’s heel landed sharply on his foot and he closed it to silence the shout of pain. 

“I suppose we can resend the invitations,” Lady Lily said sadly. “It’ll be such a hassle, but worth it if all can happily attend. Please have the invitations be amended and resent,” She order the footman who still lingered behind her chair. “The ball is to be held next saturday.” Harvey didn’t bother to mention that it looked rather desperate that they were changing the date to suit only two guests.  
When they’d finished their meal and washed up, Harvey escorted his brother and the ladies out to the waiting carriage. “Am I to expect you home for lunch?”

“We will be dining in town with a few of my friends,” Lady Lily told him. “We will return by sundown. Try not to destroy the place.”

“Please take one of the footmen with you mother,” he argued. “The last thing we want is for something awful to happen on the road.”

“Not to worry Lord Specter,” A voice behind him said. He found the dark haired footman Miss Scott had brought, Trevor if he remembered correctly, making his way to the carriage. “I will be with them.”

“I feel more at ease already,” Harvey said dryly as he joined Ray, the driver, atop the carriage.

“Stay out of trouble,” Miss Scott called from the carriage as it pulled away. Harvey waved them off with a smile. 

“Was that directed at you or me, my lord?” Michael stood on the front steps, watching the carriage pull away with a pained expression.

“Are you planning on misbehaving, Michael?” Harvey asked, turning to face him.

“No, my lord.”

“Well then we must rectify that.”

“Sir?”

“Always plan to misbehave,” Harvey motioned for him to follow. “I suppose since you’ve been left behind I’ll have to make use of you. Do you know anything about farming?”

“Not much my lord, but I’m a fast learner,” Michael said, trying to keep up.

“Good then let us get started.”

An hour later, Harvey had shed his coat and cravat and exchanged his shoes for work boots. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and dirt covered his hands as he helped the farm hands harvest and plow and plant. Michael was in fact a fast learner and once he’d gotten over his nerves, had found his footing quite quickly. He kept looking to Harvey for instruction, with an amused sort of expression on his face as they worked. And Harvey, with his mother gone, was glad to shed the facade of viscount, and put his time and body to good use.  
Donna fetched them for lunch and rather than eating in the dining room, as they would have if Lady Lily were home, Harvey and Michael joined the rest of the staff in the kitchen. Harvey greeted each of the servant girls by name-

“Mary,” the Head Maid, “Susanna” The Scullery maid, “Lue, Piper, Holly,” the house maids, “and Little Matilda,” the kitchen girl, “all as pretty as ever-”

Greeted the Butler, Mr. Thomas, the Under Butler, Lionel, The Footman, Howard, and the second footman, Gregory-

“Mr. Thomas how is your sister? I was told her oldest is about to start looking for work, will he be inquiring here? We can always use another pair of hands-”

And helped Cook set the table-

“No, no I’ve got it, you serve I’ll pass out the food, not to worry-”

And led them in a short prayer, all while Michael looked on in awe. They ate amongst lively chatter and smiling faces and Harvey felt perfectly, wonderfully, at home.

“Where is it you went on your ride this morning, sir?” Matilda, the youngest at eleven years, asked.

“I went to the lake, wanted to see if the foxes were out playing again,” Harvey told her, stealing a bit of bread from Donna’s plate.

“You mean Jasper and Anna Marie?” Matilda smiled at him. “Where they there?”

Harvey nodded. “They were. Along with a herd of deer. It was something out of your storybooks, I must say.”

“Your mother is right about catching a chill though,” Donna said, stealing a few grapes. “I don’t intend to be taking care of you when you’re ill, no sir.”

“And here I thought you loved me.”

“Ha! Not enough to put up with your endless whining and moaning about how horrid you feel.”

A round of laughter filled the room. “You shoulda seen ‘im when he was a lad,” Cook chimed in. “You think he’s rotten now when he’s ill, it’s nothing compared to when he was a lad. Heaven forbid he just take his medicine and rest. No he had to do everything but!”

Michael sat by quietly and watched the spectacle before him. Harvey kept glancing his way, wanting to make sure he was alright and not feeling particularly left out, but the boy never met his eye, always looking down at his plate or at the other members of staff. When they had finished he helped cook clear away the dishes, surprised when Harvey offered to help her wash them. 

“No, no you boys go wash up, you look a right mess.” She kissed Harvey’s cheek. “And spend your afternoon enjoying yourself, not working. I’ll have Donna tell me if she catches you indoors with your books. Then you’ll be sorry.”

“Fine, fine,” He made his way to the door, not without bowing to the staff and bidding them a lovely afternoon. Michael followed him with a dumbfounded expression on his face.

“And now m-my lord?” he asked once they were out of the kitchen.

“And now what?”

“What would you have me do for the remainder of the afternoon?” Michael clarified. “I am to be at your disposal am I not?”

Harvey wished the boy wouldn’t word it like that. “We’ll wash up and then perhaps go for a ride. If Cook wants me out of the house then I’m to be out of the house.”

“Why do you listen to her my lord, if she’s but the cook?”

“Does it matter why?”

“It is simply odd and would be deemed improper in many households, my lord.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, my lord. As you are the viscount and she is but a member of staff.”

Harvey stopped and turned to face him. “Because she has been with me since I was a boy and was more a mother to me than Lady Lily ever had the decency to be. Is that sufficient an answer, Michael?”

“Y-yes, milord. Sorry, milord.” Michael looked away in embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to offend.”

“Of course you didn’t.” Harvey sighed. “Now, unless you have more pressing matters, would you care to join me for a ride?”

Michael looked up in surprise. “Me sir?”

Harvey looked around them at the courtyard. “Do you see anyone else by the name of Michael?”

“No, milord.” The boy’s cheeks turned red and Harvey couldn’t help but smile.

“Then yes, you. I find your company amusing, if not enjoyable. Take a ride with me. I promise we’ll be home before Miss Scott and Lady Lily return, as to not land you in any trouble.”

“Harvey,” Donna called from the house. “Please don’t scare the poor boy, he’s not used to your eccentricities!”

“I’m not going to eat him, Donna, have a bit of faith,” Harvey called back.

“In you? Never.” She smiled at him and disappeared back inside, her long red hair dancing behind her as she went.

“So? What do you say?” Harvey asked, turning back to Michael.

“I uhm… I would be honored milord but uhm…” Michael picked at his fingers. “It’s just that…”

“Just what?”

“I don’t know how to ride.”

It was Harvey’s turn to be appalled. “You don’t know how to ride?”

“No, milord. I never had anyone to teach me. Gram and I would just take a carriage if we needed to travel, or I walked.” There was a hint of stubborn indignance in his voice that made Harvey smile.

“Then I’ll teach you, come on.”

“No, milord, it’s alright you don’t need to go to such trouble to-”

“A young man should know how to ride a horse, be it for emergency’s sake or simply for a leisurely pastime. And as I have nothing else to do for the remainder of the afternoon, I don’t mind giving you my attention.” He offered Michael his arm with his patent teasing grin. “We’ll make a proper man of you yet.”

Michael hesitated, but hooked his arm with Harvey’s. “If you insist, milord.”

“Donna?” The redhead appeared in the window of the kitchen. “Care to join us at the stables?”

“Whatever for?”

“We have to teach young Michael how to ride a horse.”

They chose a soft tempered mare for Michael to ride, while Donna, dressed in men’s trousers and her hair pulled away from her face, rode Marcus’ horse, Hazel. Harvey stayed on his feet, helping Michael to get situated on the saddle and stay there. When the boy was comfortable, Harvey guided the horse along, letting him grow accustomed to the steady pace.

“They’re v-very tall, milord,” Michael croaked, holding tightly to the saddle, while Harvey held the reins. 

“You’re doing fine, Michael,” Donna said gently, having Hazel move at a similar, slow pace. 

“If you stay calm the horse will too, it’s quite simple really,” Harvey added, leading them in a circle.

“And what about falling off milord?” Michael asked.

“Try not to.”

The boy laughed. “You’re not a very good teacher.”

“Excuse you, I am a wonderful teacher!”

Michael just laughed harder and clung to the horse so he wouldn’t fall. He took the reins from Harvey after a few turns and with each step he grew more confident, sitting straighter, relaxing his hold. “Look, I’ve got it!”

There was a light in his eyes, color in his cheeks, spirit in his voice. It made Harvey speechless for a moment, watching him with a smile. “Very good, Michael. Very good.”

Donna left them to it once Michael had been able to bring his horse up to a trot, the boy laughing as he and the horse made rounds about the stable. Harvey saddled up his own horse again, Thyme nuzzling his cheek as he did, and climbed up. 

“Where do you plan to ride, milord?” Michael asked, slowing his horse to a stop. “We only have a short while before sunset, and Lady Lily said they’d return by then.”

“It’ll be a brief excursion don’t worry, Michael.”

“Can… Can we go to the lake you mentioned at lunch?”

And so they went. 

Michael was shaky at first, having trouble keeping up with Harvey’s speed. But as it seemed to be a matter of confidence, he had brought his horse to a gallop after a few wary, failed attempts. Harvey was proud of him and even let Michael lead the way for a stretch, until actual directions on the road were necessary. The Lake in question was a two mile ride from the Manor and Harvey frequented the road there during the late summer and the fall. Occasionally, if the winter was cold enough, the braver townsfolk would ride out to ice skate on it’s frozen surface. Harvey hadn’t done that since childhood, but he always intended to try it again.

“It’s lovely here,” Michael said when they arrived.

Harvey slid off his horse with ease. “Yes, it’s quiet most days. In the summer some families like to have picnics here.” He looked to Michael. “Are you alright?”

“I… I don’t know how to get down,” he admitted sheepishly.

“Heavens, what a damsel you are. Here,” Harvey reached up to hold him at the waist and carefully lifted him off the horse, Michael’s fingers digging into the fabric of Harvey’s shirt for reassurance. “There we are,” he said, setting him on his feet. “Not so bad for your first ride?”

“Not at all milord.” Michael smiled up at him.

“Harvey.”

“Sorry?”

“No need for formalities here, Michael. Harvey will suffice I think.”

A pause, but the smile didn’t falter. “Very well sir.”

“That troubles you,” Harvey noted, settling onto the grass with a sigh. “My lack of regard for proper titles.”

“No, it’s simply odd to me is all.”

Harvey patted the grass next to him. “And why is that?”

Michael sat down next to him and pulled his knees into his chest. “I’ve only be in Miss Scott’s service for a short while, but in that time I’ve met plenty of gentry and nobility, all of whom are very proper and concerned with their status. If we address them incorrectly, it is an insult and we are punished for it.” He glanced at Harvey. “And yet you and your brother, you seem to care very little.”

“In proper company I take my title seriously. I expect to be addressed as Lord Specter, or something of that sort. It’s not that I disregard it’s importance, but-”

“You do in the company of your staff,” Michael said. “May… May I ask why that is, sir?”

Telling his life story to a footman had not been how Harvey envisioned spending his afternoon, but he laid down on the grass with a sigh. “My father, the former Viscount, always believed that the best way to run a household was with trust and kindness. He didn’t see the point in treating the staff and servants as if they were lesser than us. All that did was make people bitter and jealous, make the gentry and nobility snobbish and cruel. He raised my brother and I under the same belief, that we were to treat the Staff and Servants like family, friends, and equals, unless in the presence of those who would scorn said behavior. My mother on the other hand, thought it a silly practice. She has always treated the staff poorly.”

“I noticed.”

“When my father was alive she wasn’t nearly as bad, he wouldn’t let her be. That and she was always away on social calls. But now she’s the Lady of the House and she makes sure everyone remembers it.”

Michael nodded. “Was it true, sir, that Cook was more a mother to you? Or were you simply upset with me?” Harvey was silent a moment, unsure what to say. Michael panicked. “I’m sorry sir, it’s not my place to intrude I-”

“It was true.” Harvey said in a low voice. “Cook has always cared for my brother and I more than our mother has. Were I able, I would call her mother, but that is frowned upon, obviously.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“For your mother not loving you as she should.”

A solemn air settled about the lake as they sat there in silence, Harvey stretched out on the grass, Michael watching him with his curious eyes. Birds darted past overhead as the blue sky began to dark little by little, the horses grazing nearby. It was peaceful and it was sad, a moment Harvey wasn’t sure he’d ever want to share with someone. It felt vulnerable, and vulnerability in front of others was something he frowned upon. 

But there he was with a footman, an apparent stranger, sharing that vulnerable moment with him. 

To his surprise, it was almost comforting.

Harvey spoke up after their silence had stretched on. “You’re welcome to the library whenever you wish.”

“Sir?”

Harvey looked up at him and smiled. “You’re a clever boy. And that library hardly sees as much love as it deserves. You’re welcome to it while you stay here, so long as it doesn’t get you in trouble with Miss Scott.”

Michael beamed at him. “Thank you, Harvey. Really. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. In fact don’t. I have a reputation to maintain.”

“The reputation of being a kindhearted sap, you mean, sir,” the boy teased and Harvey laughed. He was right, whatever scary reputation he’d had in his younger years, at least around the Manor, had faded almost entirely. The townspeople still thought him aloft and cold, but he was alright with that. The Manor was his haven, there he could be whomever he wanted. It was safe.

“Come on, we ought to be heading back.”

Dinner was a quiet affair. 

Michael had disappeared below stairs with the rest of the staff. Harvey joined the ladies for dinner. Afterwards, Marcus played the piano forte for them in the parlor, Lady Lily prattling on about how lovely their outing had been. Miss Scott kept a careful eye on Harvey throughout the evening but was quiet, choosing as Harvey did, to simply listen to Marcus play.

Harvey had intended to retire to his rooms and rest at a reasonable hour, but curiosity got the better of him and he found himself making his way through the dark and quiet house to the library. Sure enough, Michael was settled in front of the small fire, a book open in his lap and several more stacked by his knee.

“I trust you weren’t given any trouble for not being in the house all day?” Harvey asked, stepping inside. Michael looked up at him with a hesitant smile.

“Not at all, Milord. Miss Scott didn’t even ask what I had done with myself today. She was far too interested in why you weren’t paying her the proper amount of attention.” His nimble fingers marked the page and closed the book. 

“Yes, well, she will be wondering why that is for a long time I’m afraid.”

Michael laughed softly. “Can’t sleep, milord?”

“No I’m afraid not.” Harvey moved to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a drink. “I thought I would see if you wanted any company.”

“If it’s not too bold sir-”

“We are alone, Michael. I encourage you to speak freely here.”

“You are a strange man, sir.”

“Oh?” Harvey asked in surprise.

Michael nodded with a smile. “But that’s not a bad thing. I find the strange people are often times the best company.”

He was a curious boy, sweet and clever, but curious. “I shall take that as the compliment I assume it to be.” He dropped onto the sofa with a sigh.

Michael reached for a book. “Would you like to continue the Tempest?”

“Enthrall me.”

They finished The Tempest together, reading lines back and forth amidst hushed laughter and little facts Michael would share. He seemed able to produce all kinds of obscure little trivia about the play, its varied productions over the years, Shakespeare’s supposed life. It made Harvey listen with reverent attention as the boy spoke, knowledge and clever words gracing the room around them.

For the first time since his father’s death, Harvey found himself enjoying the company of a stranger. He found that old spark of curiosity sputtering to life in his chest, as they moved from the Tempest to the Merchant of Venice, and the old worry that it might grow out of control wasn’t present. He wanted to stay, just as they were, reading together, sharing that moment of vulnerability and comfort. They sat together, in front of the fire, and Harvey felt truly at home.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> draaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaammmmmmaaaa

Wednesday was spent at Miss Scott’s side. The entire day. All of it.

Every.

Waking.

Moment.

Marcus had gone to visit a friend and fellow musical student for the day, Lady Lily was busy planning the ball with Mr. Thomas the Butler and Donna, housekeeper. Miss Scott had told her staff, her two handmaids, whose names Harvey never learned, Trevor and Michael, to make themselves useful in the house, so Harvey never once saw Michael. He had vanished below stairs after they’d finished Merchant of Venice and hadn’t resurfaced since. 

Harvey and Miss Scott shared the morning in the gardens, amidst the cool autumn air, doing their best to catch up properly without his mother hovering over their shoulders. Miss Scott had traveled, after leaving the Manor. She had gone with her american Sweetheart to New York and to Washington D.C. He had taken her to Paris after that and there they had stayed for almost a year. Then they had returned to London, where she had run the house until he left her. She claimed not to know why he had left, only that one morning she woke up and he was gone.

“I am sorry,” Harvey told her. They sat on the swing his father had built, the withering roses clinging to the faded wood. “You deserve far better than that.”

“Who’s to say,” Miss Scott said with a shrug. “He’s gone now and I’ve found peace with that. I returned to my family home in London and have been there since, helping my father and sisters as much as I can.”

“And they are well?”

“Yes, the girls are both looking for suitable husbands, which is scaring father to death.”

“I can imagine. They’re clever, beautiful girls though, they’ll find good husbands I have no doubt.”

“One of them thought about joining me, said she wanted to get a look at your brother,” Miss Scott said with a smile. When Harvey paled in concern she laughed. “Not to worry, Josephine won’t get her hands on Marcus, he’s too good a soul for a spoilt girl like her.”

“He is too good a soul for all of us,” Harvey agreed.

“How has he been as of late?”

It was hard to say. Technically speaking Marcus was in recovery. The fever had left him thin and frail and with very little energy. But every doctor they had consulted said he would recover fully, with enough time and rest. It had been a little over a year and a half since he was deemed well, and his recovery had been far better than anyone had anticipated. But despite his fiery spirit, his body had trouble keeping up at times. Some mornings he was too tired to rise for breakfast and other days he’d be racing around the house singing ballads for all to hear. 

It both terrified and overjoyed Harvey. Seeing as Marcus was all he had left, disregarding his mother, his brother’s well being and happiness was higher on his list of priorities than his own.

They shared a light lunch in the sunroom, Lady Lily joining them at last. She didn’t stay long, however, leaving for her friend Lady Juniper’s tea party almost immediately. And despite spending the entirety of the afternoon and evening in each other’s company, the topic of why everything between them had fallen apart so swiftly and so horribly was never once brought up.  
Miss Scott excused herself from dinner that evening, claiming a faint headache. Harvey did the same, letting his mother think that they’d come to some sort of friendly agreement in her absence, when really, they’d all but run out of things to discuss. He barricaded himself in his chambers and let the sky grow dark and dreary outside the windows. The storm rolled in, leaving his mother and Marcus both stranded at their various social functions, but they were at least, safe. Marcus sent word that he would return in the morning.

Being in Miss Scott’s company once again had brought back both the good and the bad. It had brought back all the fond memories he had of her, of them learning music with his father, morning rides and evening dances in the halls. The way she smiled when she was truly happy, and all propriety be damned. The curl of her hair around his finger, the way her voice shook when she was trying not to laugh.   
It also brought back the bitter taste in his mouth and the ache in his chest when he remembered the sight of her retreating carriage that evening when she had left. It brought back the sting of old betrayals and old fears, of letting someone, letting her, in that close again, only to have the outcome remain the same. It brought back his own shortcomings and flaws, put them in excellent focus and light for him to see. It was a painful moment of self reflection, calling into question all his regrets and guilts, and he found it was one best carried out with a glass of whiskey. Or two. Or three.

Around ten o’clock that night there was a sharp rapping on his door. He’d expected Donna, or even Miss Scott, come to ask him what damage had been done to him that caused him to not love her properly. 

“What?” he barked. Michael poked his head in. “You… are not Donna.”

“No, my lord,” Michael said with a small smile. He stepped inside with a tray in hand. “Though Miss Donna did tell me you chose to skip dinner this evening. She and Cook told me to bring you this, incase you were hungry.”

“Set it down somewhere.” Harvey dropped his head back onto the couch, where he was stretched out like a cat. 

“Are you… Are you alright, my lord?”

“Hmm?”

“You seem troubled.”

Harvey gave him a sharp smile but didn’t bother opening his eyes. “You try spending the entire day with the woman you’d intended to marry and tell me how fantastic you feel afterwards.”

“Ah, I see…”

“Forgive me,” Harvey sighed. “I should not have snapped.”

“And I should not have intruded.”

With a groan, Harvey sat up and rubbed his eyes, swaying a little bit from the whiskey. “I’m alright. It’s simply that Miss Scott and I have a history that is best forgotten. Today was a reminder of why.”

“I am sorry, my lord,” michael said earnestly. “Facing one’s history is never a pleasant experience.”

“No it’s not.” Harvey looked up at the boy. “Is there something you needed?”

“Uhm… No, sir.” Michael looked away with a sheepish smile. “no, I simply wanted to check on you.” His hands were held behind his back almost as if-

“What’ve you got?” Harvey asked with a frown. “And don’t lie I have a younger brother who is a mastermind at these games, I know you’ve got something there.”

It was Much Ado About Nothing.

“I thought, perhaps, you might have hidden yourself in the library. When I found I was wrong, I figured I might come and see if you were interested in continuing your reeducation of shakespeare.” The timid smile turned mischievous and Harvey felt his heart skip.

“Alright then, bring the food here and let’s begin,” He slipped onto the floor, dragging a blanket and pillows with him for comfort, the bottle of whiskey sat within reach and he poured them both a healthy drink. “Anything to rid my mind of Miss Scott for a short while.”

Michael brought over the tray of food (a bowl of fruit, a plate of biscuits, bread and fine cheese) and settled down on a cushion next to Harvey. “Are we going to read the parts like last time?”

“Fine, let’s divide up the cast.”

It was, and Michael had chosen it for this reason, the most humorous play they’d read yet and soon Harvey’s chambers were filled with their laughter and breathless lines as they tried to keep with the various characters. It proved difficult, and ever more difficult the further into the bottle of whiskey they got. Harvey paid no mind to how many drinks he poured for them both, his focus on his lines and the color in Michael’s cheeks as he laughed. They had moved closer together, the book settled on Michael’s lap, Harvey’s arm around him, draped on the sofa so he could read his lines. That, and he enjoyed the warmth of Michael’s body against his own. He enjoyed the way Michael looked up at him with dazed, bright blue eyes and a giddy smile, his lips swollen from the way he gnawed at them absently. Harvey was reminded of the boys he’d met at oxford, handsome, intelligent, and all around wonderful young men who had very little fear when it came to breaking the law and sneaking out with their other male classmates in the middle of the night. 

“Did you know,” Michael said when they reached the first kiss in the play, “that when Shakespeare was alive, only men were allowed to perform on stage?” 

“Really? So… even the romances?”

“Even the romances.”

“That’s… bizarre,” Harvey declared, finishing his drink. Michael laughed. “no but that means they had to snog each other on stage in front of hundreds I mean-”

“Well yeah, but they’re actors, it’s what they do I spose.”

“Huh,” Harvey tried not to think too hard about what it must have been like, kissing a man on stage, or about the look that came over Michael’s face as he explained, a look that made Harvey wonder if he was thinking about it as well. 

“Times change,” Michael said solemnly.

Later he would blame it on the whiskey, but Harvey nodded in an equally solemn manner and said. “Should we honor the bard properly then?”

Michael stared at him in surprise, eyes wide, swollen lips parted, and Harvey felt foolish almost instantly. But then Michael burst into a fit of laughter, hiding his face in Harvey’s shoulder and he felt his nerves ease just a little.

“That was horrible. Honor the bard? Harvey that was awful,” Michael wheezed before another round of giggles overtook him.

“It was horrible,” Harvey laughed as well, wiping his eyes. “S’not my fault though, I’m out of practice.” Michael laughed harder and the arm Harvey had draped around his shoulders tightened it’s hold. “Not to worry, we’ll skip over that bit then-”

Michael looked up, his face flushed from laughter. “What you mean if that line hadn’t been so terrible you’d have tried to kiss me?”

The word left him before he could think it over-

“Yes.”

Who acted first would be the subject of debate for years to come. One moment they were staring at each other and the next Harvey’s fingers were tracing Michael’s jaw as their mouths met in a desperate and poorly planned kiss. The book was tossed aside, forgotten, as they tried to find a balance, Harvey licking into Michael’s mouth with a soft groan. It was a sensation he’d nearly forgotten, the way someone felt pressed against him, shaking, clinging to him. It was better than any drink they had at the manor, any drink, any drug, any delicacy. He pressed forward, hooking a hand behind Michael’s head, the other holding his thin hip, and kissing him as thoroughly as possible, wanting to taste him, to remember the moment as perfectly as possible. The boy clung to Harvey, a white knuckle grip on his shirt, letting the older man lay him down and press him into the blanket on the floor. 

“S-sir,” he gasped as Harvey began kissing along his neck. “Sir, wait.”

“What?” Harvey pulled back and looked down at him, startled at the sudden shift in Michael’s body. He was tense, jaw set, scared even. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ll get in trouble.”

Not we’ll get in trouble, not you’ll get in trouble-

“I can’t get in trouble, sir,” he begged. “I can’t. I need this job, if anyone finds out I-”

“Shh, shh, it’s alright.” Harvey moved off him, helping him sit up. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I acted without thinking. You won’t get in trouble, I promise.”

Michael sat up and fixed his shirt. “You can’t promise that sir. I am not yours to protect.”

“I…” Harvey sighed. The boy was right. “No, I suppose you aren’t.”

They sat in silence then, Harvey feeling far more sober than he would have liked. Michael gathered his wits and got to his feet, picking up the book, only swaying a little. 

“I’m sorry, milord, for my behavior.” He said softly, as if it was all his fault. Harvey felt sick at the very idea, but Michael carried on. “I wish you a good night and a good morning. I hope you can forgive this trespass.”

He left Harvey sitting in front of his fire, feeling like more of a fool than he’d ever felt in his life.

Every Thursday since his return from Oxford, Harvey had called on The Countess, for tea, a walk in her gardens, and more importantly a rousing discussion on the idiocy of other people. Her reputation as a cold and calculating woman was rightfully earned and those who feared her had perfectly good reason to. But Harvey was among the choice few who knew her personally, beneath the icy demeanor she held in public, and there could not be a more fascinating or lovely woman on the earth, as far as he was concerned.   
But that morning he was delayed.

“Why haven’t you left yet?” Donna asked when he wandered into the kitchens. 

“I’m about to, but I was hoping you might give something to Michael for me.”

“Miss Scott’s footman?” Donna frowned. “Why?”

“For reasons.”

“What reasons?”

“My own reasons.”

“Reasons of what nature, My Lord?” she asked, using his proper title in slight mockry.

Harvey let out a slow breath. “I offended him yesterday. I simply want to apologize but I can’t seem to find him.” He handed her a letter and a small wrapped parcel.

“What’s in it?”

“A book.”

“From the library?”

“We have so many no one will notice it’s gone,” Harvey assured her.

She narrowed her eyes at him, studying him like a cat studies potential prey, her lips a thin line. “Fine. I’ll give it to him, but we are not finished discussing why you offended a footman and more importantly, why you care enough to set it right.”

“Donna-”

“No, we will be discussing this.” She said firmly. “But go, it’s not good to keep the Countess waiting. She’ll think you died on the road or something.”

“Fine, fine, just give it to him.”

He caught sight of Michael as he rode out, the boy helping his friend Trevor carry parcels from a waiting delivery wagon into the house. No doubt purchases from Miss Scott’s excursion with his mother. Thyme whinnied and made to go greet him, but Harvey steered the horse on down the drive. It didn’t much matter anyway, as Michael didn’t even look up when he passed. 

The look on Lady Jessica’s face when he was shown into her parlor was enough to, on a better day, make him laugh. “Oh what’s happened now? The last time you turned up looking that sour someone had died.” she asked, standing from her seat at the desk and moving to greet him. 

“No one has died,” Harvey told her, bowing and giving her hand a quick kiss.

“That’s always a relief.”

“But I have a problem.”

She paused, her brow creased as her dark eyes scanned his face for clues. Her long hair fell over her shoulders, the ribbons and gems holding it in place matching the rich burgundy of her dress. Slowly her lips curled into a fond and thoroughly amused smile.

“What trouble have you started now, Harvey?” she asked, motioning for him to sit with a wave of her hand. She waved off the footman who had shown Harvey in and with the heavy thud of the door closing, they were alone.

“I must ask you to keep this between only us,” Harvey said in a low voice. “It is a delicate matter and I cannot risk-”

“When have you ever known me to do anything but keep secrets?” She asked, sitting down across from him. “What’s happened?”

“I… I made somewhat unwanted advances on a member of my staff.”

She blinked. “Who? Donna already turned you out long ago you know better than that.”

“Well… Not exactly a member of my staff.”

“Harvey.”

He sighed and held his face in his hands. “Miss Scott is staying at the Manor for the ball and I made an advance on one of her footmen last night.”

Lady Jessica was the only person, besides Donna, who knew about school and Harvey’s occasional, highly unadvised affairs with his classmate. She, as a woman of the world, did not hold the same reservations about men being intimately involved with other men, and women intimately involved with other women. She had been the one to reassure Harvey that nothing was wrong with him, that he wasn’t going to face damnation for it, that love no matter its form wasn’t a sin, regardless of what the good book said. It was for that reason he was honest with her, because if anyone would be able to help him figure out what to do, how to get his mind to stop wandering back to Michael’s smile, it would be her.

To his surprise, she laughed. 

He looked up at her, confused and a little bit hurt, but she had her eyes squeezed shut as she laughed, her regal air vanishing in an instant.

“Oh for goodness sakes I thought you’d actually done something terrible!” Lady Jessica shook her head. “The way you looked made me think you’d hurt someone or run a carriage off the road by mistake.”

“But it is terrible,” Harvey insisted. “I’m supposed to be looking for a wife and instead I find myself kissing a man in my own chambers. God and he hates me now for it, too.”

“Have you spoken to him?”

“He won’t even look at me.”

“Oh don’t be so melodramatic,” she scolded. “I’m sure he’s just embarrassed. As anyone would be if someone, regardless of gender, tried kissing them. He didn’t shove you away at first?”

“No, no he seemed glad I kissed him.”

“And then?”

“He panicked, started talking about how much trouble he’d get in if anyone found out. Not the trouble I would get in, but himself which-”

“Harvey, you said the boy was a footman. No one is going to think twice about a handsome young lord who’s looking to be married, being found with a servant, even if that servant is male, simply because there’s no way a handsome young lord would take interest in a servant, let alone a male servant. They will, however, string up a poor footman in the gallows for it.” Lady Jessica reached for the tea set that sat between them and poured them each a cup. “I can see why he was scared out of his wits. He should be.”

“But I would never put him at risk like that, Jessica, you know I wouldn’t.”

“But he doesn’t,” she said, sipping her tea. “How could he? All he probably knows about it whatever Miss Scott has been screeching around the house, about how horrid and immature you are.”

“Well, that’s not entirely inaccurate,” Harvey muttered in agreement. He took a drink of his own tea, the strong brew burning down his throat with something other than heat. “What’ve you spiked it with this time?”

“Vodka,” Lady Jessica smiled. “One of my dear friends, a Russian Count, came to visit me. Brought me enough vodka to sedate the entire village.”

“Good man.”

“Indeed.”

“So,” Lady Jessica set down her cup and leaned in conspiratorially. “Tell me what happened. From the beginning.”

Harvey did, not sparing a single detail about Michael, since he knew Lady Jessica didn’t care about Miss Scott or his mother’s manipulative habits. When he was finished recounting the foolishness of the previous night, her fond smile had returned and she was fighting off laughter.

“Well you do have a tendency of throwing things greatly out of proportion, Harvey.” She said, pouring herself more tea and swiping a biscuit. “You were a gentleman the moment he asked you to stop, that is what matters. Had you not listened then this conversation would be very different and I would be quite disappointed.”

“I’m a better man than that, Jessica.”

“Of course you are, which begs the question, if you are so certain that you want Michael, in an intimate sense, and you believe you can keep it a secret and keep him safe, why aren’t you proving that to him?”

“He won’t even look at me!”

“Because he thinks you’re angry with him. Honestly you drank nearly an entire bottle of whiskey anyone would think that the next morning all you’d feel is regret.”

“So what do you want me to do, sweep him off his feet and be his goddamn shining knight? Jessica I can’t do that and you know I can’t.”

She sighed. “You said you gave him an apology gift, yes?” Harvey nodded. “Then when you return home, ask him if he received it and if he accepts your apology. Then, if the answer is yes, press the issue in a way that won’t scare the poor thing off. Make it very, very clear that you think you can protect him, otherwise he’ll never agree.”

“What if I can’t protect him?” Harvey asked, honestly afraid that he would fail Michael and he’d have to watch his curious new attachment be taken away from him. 

Lady Jessica took his hand. “Harvey, you have managed to protect everyone you’ve ever loved from just about anything. You’ve protected me and my secrets, your brother and his spirit, your father and his honor. I think it’s high time you protect something for your own sake, for your own happiness.”

“You have far too much faith in me, Jessica.” Harvey held her hand tightly, feeling braver than he had before. Much braver. 

“Someone has to, darling. Someone has to.”

They spent the remainder of their time together discussing who would be attending the ball and laughing about the terrible taste in women his mother had. Harvey felt immensely better by the time he was riding home, and he was fairly sure that it had nothing to do with the two pots of spiked tea they had shared. 

Fairly sure.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harvey may have underestimated the situation

The first thing he did upon arriving home was look for Michael. 

Donna, sadly, cornered him in the stables first.

“I said we weren’t done talking,” She reminded him when he nearly fell off his horse in surprise.

“Must we do it now?”

“Yes, before you find some reason to avoid me for the remainder of the day.”

He sighed. “Fine, what is it you want to know?”

“Why did you feel the need to apologize to a footman who isn’t even part of this household and why did he look like he might cry when I gave him your letter and gift?”

“He cried?” Harvey groaned. “No that wasn’t meant to happen.”

“I said he almost cried, not that he did cry,” Donna moved so Harvey was caught between her and the wall. “What did you do?”

Lying to her wouldn’t do anyone any good. “I kissed him last night.”

“You… really?”

“Yes really, you wanted the truth now you have it.”

“He didn’t want you to?” Donna asked with a small frown. “I could have swore he was at least interested.” Harvey raised an eyebrow and she scoffed. “The boy looked at you like you hung the sun in the sky. It was only logical.”

“In the beginning he seemed glad for it but-”

“He got scared.”

“Yes.”

“And you wanted to apologize for pressuring him into it?”

“And acting like a drunken fool.”

Donna looked around to make sure they were alone. “Would you have done it if you were sober?”

“Yes,” Harvey insisted. “Yes I would have if given the opportunity. I would have kissed him this morning were he not livid with me.”

“He’s not livid with you Harvey, he’s terrified if anything. And for good reason.” She sighed. “Well, what do you plan to do?”

He wanted to do what Lady Jessica had suggested, to make something out of this, to make Michael see that he’d be safe, were they to try again. But he needed Donna to agree to it, to be his secret keeper.

“Swear to me you won’t tell a soul.”

She rolled her eyes, but crossed a finger over her heart. “I swear.” Then her eyes narrowed. “You mean to court him.”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

Harvey shrugged. “I can’t get the boy out of my head Donna. I can’t stop thinking about him. I enjoy his company and if anything, I want us on good terms before he leaves. I want him to know I respect him, and I can’t do that if he’s afraid of me.”

“Nor can you do that if the household is watching you two like hawks. I’ll handle that part, I promise. Just don’t break this boy Harvey. He’s a good kid, and honest one, and he deserves-”

“I won’t Donna, I will be as good to him as I can.”

She sighed and nodded her head. “Alright, then you’d best go find him. Last I heard he was helping Mr. Thomas and Gregory with something in the grand dining room.”

He kissed her cheek and thanked her, grinning at the call of “You’re an idiot Harvey” that followed him from the stables. He stopped by the library first, hoping to grab another play for them to read once Mike found a bit of time. To his surprise, The Tempest had been returned to its proper place.

“How did…” Harvey wondered allowed, plucking it off the shelf. Maybe one of the maids had found it and returned it. He took that book instead and went to find Michael, who was in fact following Mr. Thomas out of the Grand Dining room.

“Michael, might I borrow you for a moment?” he called. “Unless of course Mr. Thomas has need of you.”

“Not at all, my lord,” Mr. Thomas said in his wheezy voice. “We’ve just finished with the silver.”

“But there was the uhm, glassware, that you had wanted help with, sir,” Michael argued, his face pale and his eyes purposefully not meeting Harvey’s. 

“The girls can handle that, you go help Lord Specter,” Mr. Thomas said, shooing him away.

“Thank you, Mr. Thomas,” Harvey said, guiding Michael away with a gentle hand on his upper back. He led them to his study, a room where few servants disturbed him, but it wouldn’t be odd to see a footman helping Harvey move a desk or something of that sort. Michael was quiet as they walked and the moment the door closed behind him he moved out of Harvey’s reach.

“What did you need help with, my lord?” he asked in a clipped voice, still not meeting Harvey’s eye.

“Uhm…” Harvey pulled the book out and offered it to him. “I found this in the library. Did you not receive it?”

“I did my lord.”

“You would not accept it?”

“It was kind of you, but no, my lord.”

“Why not?”

“It is your book. It would be wrong of me to take it from you.”

“It is a gift, Michael.”

“A gift given out of shame,” he snapped and Harvey sighed. 

“That was not the intention behind it,” he said softly. “You had told me it was your favorite play. I wanted you to have it, as an apology, if anything. Not because I am sorry that we kissed. But because I am sorry for putting you at risk the way I did.”

Michael frowned. “This isn’t you telling me that you’ve seen the error of your ways and have decided to find a nice wife and that you need me to never speak of this again or you’ll have me hanged?”

Harvey stared at him. “That was oddly specific.”

“I read it in a book once.” Michael’s scowl didn’t change.

“Of course you did.”

“So what is this then, my lord, if not you warning me?”

Harvey offered him a book. “An apology. And a request.”

“A request for what?”

“Another chance.”

Michael’s scowl faded into confusion. Harvey waved the book at him and he took it with hesitation. “I’m afraid I don’t-”

Before Michael could finish speaking however, the door to the study was thrown open and Lady Lily came hurrying in.

“Harvey! Darling there you are!” She cried dramatically. “You must come at once.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing dear, nothing, simply that Miss Scott-”

“If nothing is wrong then why are you shouting?” Harvey snapped and his mother rolled her eyes.

“Miss Scott has been looking for you all day, come now, come. You and your brother must play for her.”

“Mother I’m-”

“Come now for goodness sakes!” She demanded, half dragging him from the room. Harvey shot a panicked and apologetic look at Michael, who Lady Lily completely ignored. But the boy didn’t meet his eye. He simply stared down warily at the book in his hands. 

Later, as they waited for dinner, Harvey slipped away to the library, to check and see if the book he’d given to Mike was still missing from it’s place on the self.

It had been returned once more.

Friday and saturday were spent in almost a sort of childish game. Harvey would hide the book in places Michael was most likely to find it, hoping he would finally accept it for the gift it was. He wasn’t able to spend time with him sadly, as Miss Scott suddenly demanded his attention almost entirely. But he would slip the book into the kitchen, or leave it on the stairs, or by the servant’s quarters.  
And every single time he slipped away to the library, the book was back in it’s proper place. It was both infuriating and oddly endearing, the overt stubbornness that he was met with making him laugh as he hid the book in plain sight again and again. Miss Scott asked him what the point was.

“My brother and I have a wager going.”

“I see.” And she didn’t ask again, so long as Harvey seemed arrested by her presence and words. 

The game carried on for the entirety of Friday and into Saturday morning. It wasn’t until Miss Scott, Lady Lily, and Marcus had all gone into town together (Harvey claimed stomach sickness to escape the excursion), that he found Michael in the kitchen, practically seething over the book which Harvey had, yet again, left in the kitchen for him to find.

“Ah there you are,” he said genially. “Going to return it again are we?”

Michael glared at him. He glanced around to make sure they were alone (Cook had gone to visit her sister for the day and the Maids were about the house enjoying a quiet afternoon), shut the door and turned to Harvey.

“What are you trying to accomplish by this stupid game?” he shouted. “I don’t want the damn book!”

“Why not?” Harvey shot back.

“Because you-you- You can’t have an incomplete collection of shakespeare!”

“What?”

“You heard me. You can’t.”

“And why is that?”

“B-because it’s bad luck,” Michael roared. “It’s ruddy bad luck to have a damn collection that’s missing the final play!”

“Say’s who?” Harvey snapped.

“Say’s me! And the rules I’ve just made up!”

The absurdity of the whole thing made Harvey laugh. “That’s ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous is you continuously hiding this damn book for me to find, my lord,” Michael hissed, using the title in a manner of mockery, the same way Donna did when she was angry with him. 

“Why won’t you just accept it? I can buy another.”

“Because I don’t want your apology,” Michael said. “I don’t want this to be some sort of half hearted apology that just ends in you changing your mind on me.”

“How would I-”

Footsteps. 

Michael froze in panic, not even bothering to look and see who was approaching the door. Inside, he grabbed the front of Harvey’s shirt and dragged, with a surprising amount of strength, him to the nearby linen closet. It was a narrow room, leaving very little space between them once the door was shut. Michael was pressed up against Harvey, knees knocking against his, as he strained to listen.

“What are you doing?” Harvey hissed. 

“Shush!”

“I’m the-” Michael’s hand covered his mouth and the boy nearly growled at him.

“What part of shush don’t you understand? Be quiet,” he whispered with a sneer.

It was at that moment that Harvey began to wonder if maybe he had underestimated the situation and the boy involved. 

They held their breath as the footsteps entered the kitchen, made several rounds, and exited once more, most likely on the of the maids fetching something to eat or drink. When the silence had lasted several minutes, Michael looked back to Harvey with a terrifying scowl.

“Let us get one thing clear, Lord Specter,” he hissed. “I am not your toy. I will never be your toy. I am not some play thing you can use until you tire of me. I am not your distraction from Miss Scott. I am not your pet. And I am certainly not going to risk my life and the safety of my gram just so you can have an illicit affair you thought up in your fantasies.”

It wasn’t helping the matter that as he spoke, Michael moved closer, slotting their bodies together perfectly so that the heat of his body made Harvey’s breath catch in his throat. “I don’t know what it is with ye damned nobles, thinking you can do whatever you fancy because no one will stop you and ye never have to face the damn consequences of yer actions. But If this is just you being a perverted fool I’ll have none of it.”

Harvey shoved Michael’s hand away. “Is that what you think this is? That’s what you think of me? That all I want is one night of intimacy only to ruin you the next morning?”

“What the hell am I supposed to think? You’re a Lord, A. Lord. I am a poor footman who until four days ago you didn’t even know existed. I work for your ex fiancée. What else am I supposed to expect from you?”

“That maybe I’m curious about what it’d be like to kiss you properly for the sake of kissing you not because I want anything out of it!”

“Men always want something out of it!” Michael’s face was flushed with anger. “Especially you rich gents with too much time on yer hands. All ye want is a bit of sex, a bit of fun, then you toss your partner aside like they’re nothing and move onto the next! You may think y’aren’t like that but as far as I can tell, you’re pretty damned similar. There is no other reason for you persisting in this nonsensical g-”

Harvey shoved him against the opposing wall and kissed him, just for the sake of silencing him. Michael made a sound of angry protest at first, trying to push Harvey away. But the moment he did, he chased after him, kissing him with surprising force and determination that had Harvey stumbling to keep up. Michael bit at his lips and forced his way into his mouth, his fingers sliding around Harvey’s head to tug at his blonde hair. 

Yes, Harvey thought to himself, as he tried to remember to breathe, he had underestimated the situation and more importantly, the boy involved. 

“You,” Michael said when they broke apart, his fingers still tight in Harvey’s hair. “Are the most thick headed man I have ever met.”

“I am,” Harvey gasped for breath. “Also the Lord of this House. And I can ruin you, as you so fear.”

Michael’s face broke into a mischievous, knowing grin. “Ah, but ye won’t. Not while there’s still a chance I’ll give you what ye want.”

“Is that so?” Harvey groaned when Michael’s grip on his hair tightened and he shifted his hips just right.

“What’s it ye want, hm?” the boy asked, pressing closer, his hip adding friction to Harvey’s growing erection. “You want me on my knees for ye like a good boy, my lord?”

“N-no I-”

“Yes ye do,” he rolled his hips ever so slightly and Harvey swore under his breath. “You want me on my knees like a whore. Can’t say I blame ye though, I’ve been told I’m easy enough on the eyes.”

“Oh have you indeed?”

Michael laughed. “Ye think you’re the first person to get handsy with me, sir?”

That made Harvey pause, a wave of jealousy and possessive fire rising in him. He forced his eyes open and met Michael’s fierce gaze. “No, but I will be the last.”

“What?”

“You heard me.” Harvey said, his mouth dry. “I may not be the first man to take interest in you. But I will be the last man who kisses you and the last man who regards you with such intimacy.”

A sliver of anger vanished from Michael’s expression. “And what makes you so sure of that?”

“Because I’m better than them. And I want you in ways they don’t.” Harvey pulled Michael’s hand away from his hair and leaned in so his lips brushed the shell of his ear. “And I plan to fight for you.”

Michael’s face went blank as he stared at Harvey, his quizzical blue eyes scanning the lord’s face for any sign that he was lying. But Harvey wasn’t. He would keep Michael safe. He wasn’t exactly sure why it mattered so much to him, but he knew at least that he wanted Michael in his life, in any manner he was allowed to have him.

“And because, while I would very much like to carry you off to my chambers,” he said in a low voice, “I would be very content simply being able to call you friend.”

“Would you?”

“I would.”

With a furrowed brow, Michael regarded him. “You are a strange man, Lord Specter.”

“So I’ve been told.” Harvey wanted to congratulate himself on being able to think clearly, what with a persistent erection and the cause of it still pressed snugly against him like he was made to be right there. “Now, if we might continue this conversation in, ah, a more appropriate setting?”

He tried to move but the narrow space just made him grind against Michael’s hip unintentionally and the boy’s mischievous smile returned. “Well I can’t right let ye go out there looking like that, my lord,” he said.

“Oh of course now you decide to be proper.”

Michael laughed. “Sort of my fault though.”

“Yes, yes it is.”

“Would you like me to rectify that, milord?” he asked.

“What?”

Michael, without another word, slid to his knees.

Oh.

“Keep yourself quiet or else they’ll find us. I haven’t decided if I’m willing to risk my neck for this yet.” He said, tugging down Harvey’s trousers and underwear. He hummed softly as he took Harvey’s cock in hand, running his tongue along it’s length. Harvey swore and covered his mouth with one hand, trying not to make a sound, his other hand moving to Michael’s messy hair.  
“You’re going to be,” Harvey’s breath hitched as Michael took him into his mouth and swallowed him down, bit by bit, until his nose tickled the fine hairs at the base of his cock. “The death of me, boy.”

Michael pulled off and smiled. “I can only hope, milord.”

There wasn’t much room for talking after that. Michael swallowed Harvey down, his fingers digging into Harvey’s ass, holding him in place as he worked his cock. Harvey closed his eyes and tried his best to stay quiet, his hand muffling the desperate sounds he kept making as Michael’s tongue circled the head of his cock. He felt hot, his skin itching with want and desperation. His fingers tightened in Michael’s hair as he neared climax, the boy whining around his cock. He thought belatedly that maybe this was all a dream, that he’d never woken up that morning and was still lying in his chambers. If that were the case, he prayed never to wake up at all.  
When he came, stifling a cry against his hand, Michael swallowed it all, liking his lips like a greedy cat. Harvey chanced it and looked down. Michael’s tongue lapped at his now overly sensitive cock, his blue eyes fixed on Harvey’s, and Harvey groaned pitifully.

“There now,” Michael said, his voice rough. “All better.” He fixed Harvey’s trousers and shirt, making him look as if nothing at all had happened between them. “And as for you offer, milord, I will think about it.”

“When will I have your answer?” Harvey asked.

“Tonight, I suppose, sir,” Michael said, fixing his own clothes, the normalcy and propriety slipping quickly back into place between them. 

“Come to my chambers?” Harvey took Michael’s hand. “Please?”

The boy sighed. “Alright, alright, I shall come to your chambers.” He moved to look through the keyhole, checking to see if the coast was clear. “Now I have to go. Don’t follow immediately or someone is bound to notice.”

He glanced at Harvey once more and kissed him, sweet and chaste, before slipping out of the closet and vanishing from sight. Harvey groaned again and slid down to the floor, hiding his face in his hands. 

He had greatly underestimated everything.

A short while later, footsteps met his ears. He held his breath, waiting for them to retreat again. Instead, they made their way right to the closet door, which opened with a creak.

“What on earth are you doing?” Donna asked, looking down at him. He just shrugged weakly. “Have you spoken to Michael?” A nod. “And?” Another shrug. “Ah, I see. Well come on, get up. The viscount can hardly be seen hiding in closets now can he?” Donna helped him to his feet and fixed his clothes so he looked more presentable.

Harvey didn’t fail to notice that the book was still sitting on the kitchen table. 

He waited in his chambers that night like a man who waited for the axe to fall and sever his neck. He still didn’t fully understand why the matter was so important to him, but everytime he tried to think about it, to discern the cause, all he could focus on was Michael, his kiss, his clever eyes, the stubborn fire that hid beneath the sweet and gentle demeanor. It was distracting, to say the very least. 

The world outside had gone dark an hour before. He sat by the window, the one glass of wine he allowed himself in hand, mind wandering as he waited. 

A soft knock at the door felt like the falling axe. 

“Come in.”

Michael slipped inside, dressed in his nightshirt and trousers, and closed the door behind him. Harvey noted the soft click of the lock. He must have nicked a key from Donna, he thought to himself. 

“Before I give you my answer, milord,” Michael said firmly. “I need to know something.”

Harvey set down his wine and looked to him. “Anything.”

“Why me?” Michael asked. “I understand you are curious but I have to know why you find yourself invested in me, of all people.”

“Because you are different than the others,” Harvey said softly. “You are clever, more clever than anyone I’ve ever met. You are stubborn and fiery and proud, all things you don’t often find in servants. More importantly, you don’t treat me as if I’m something special. I am grateful for that. It makes me want to spend more time with you, seeing as the possibility of friendship is higher, since you don’t exactly see me as your superior.”

“So I confuse you.”

“To some extent.”

“And you like that I confuse you.”

“It makes me want to learn from you,” Harvey said. “You are a different breed and I want to know who you are. Because clearly the sweet, soft spoken footman I thought you to be was nothing but a facade.”

Michael laughed sheepishly. “No one likes a servant with thoughts of his own, sir.”

“I do.”

“So I see.”

Harvey smiled at him. “Did that answer your question at all?”

“I just want to know if it is based solely on my appearance, your fascination with me.” Michael shuffled his barefeet.

“No, this isn’t such a shallow thing, Michael. I may like your smile, but trust me, you’re far more interesting a person when you’re speaking your mind and trying not to fall off a horse.”

That made Michael laugh. “Thank you, sir.” He glanced up. “Harvey, I mean.”

“So, your answer?” Harvey asked, certain that Michael would refuse. Though the fact he had come to his chambers at all was more than Harvey had been expecting. 

“You’ll keep me safe?” Michael asked.

“Yes.”

“You’ll make me happy?” It was almost teasing.

“I’ll do my utmost.”

Michael was silent for a moment. Then, he let out a slow breath and walked to Harvey, climbing gracefully onto the chair and straddling his lap. He traced his fingers across Harvey’s brow, ran them through his hair, held his face in his hands. He offered him a small smile and leaned in for a soft, fleeting kiss. Harvey wanted to follow, to ask for more, but Michael held him in place so all he could do was settle his hands on Michael’s hips and wait. 

“Convince me,” he said softly. “That this won’t be a bad idea.” 

Harvey coaxed him into a proper kiss, Michael sighing against his lips, shifting closer so their hips were pressed flush together. The desperation that had been present in their first kiss, and in their exchange in the linen closet, was absent. Harvey kept it subdued, teasing his tongue into Mike’s mouth without any rush, his grip on the boy’s hips tightening. When Michael’s fingers tugged at the short hairs on the back of Harvey’s neck, the lord’s hands slid upwards under his nightshirt, running them along the soft skin of his sides and back. He was able to feel him properly for the first time, to hold him, to devote himself entirely to Michael’s taste, scent, and fluttering heartbeat.  
The nightshirt was discarded and Harvey was given access to his pale throat and freckled collar bone. He was careful not to leave any marks where someone might see, but he still dragged his teeth along the line of Michael’s throat, just to feel the way he shivered from the sensation. The slow roll of Michael’s hips, teasing at first, changed the pace between them, his fingers pulling at Harvey’s hair, tugging his head back so he could return the favor and suck at his neck. He wasn’t as considerate as Harvey was, digging his teeth into the man’s pulse and sucking hard, leaving a mark that, were he to wear anything but a proper high collared shirt, the whole world would see. 

“God,” he moaned, “You’re feral.”

Michael laughed against the bruising, red skin. “I thought you liked that I was wilder than your average servant boy.”

“I do, I do,” Harvey slid his hands down to Michael’s ass, fingers teasing below the waistband. “Just be careful with those teeth of yours.”

“Or what, you’ll turn me over your knee, milord?” He teased, grinding his hips down with purpose. He let go of Harvey’s hair and started unbuttoning his shirt, trailing his lips across his skin until he’d found another patch of skin to sink his teeth into.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” 

Michael left a series of marks across his chest, grinning at the frustrated noises Harvey kept making. “I just might.” He laughed at the long exasperated groan. “Oh please, I imagine you’d enjoy using your hand on my ass just as much as I’d enjoy the sting.”

Harvey didn’t deny it. 

He lifted Michael in his arms and carried him to the bed, dropping him onto the mattress and ridding him of his trousers. Michael stretched out on the sheets, showing himself off like a gem on display and Harvey sighed at the sight of his long pale legs and freckled arms across his sheets. “You’re lovely.”

“Thank you,” Michael said, almost shyly. 

“So lovely, in fact, that I might just have keep you here.” Harvey stripped off his own clothes and crawled over top of him. “Take you from Miss Scott and keep you locked away here with me.”

“If I let you that is.”

Harvey laughed softly and kissed him. “I think you might.”

It had been several long years since he’d last been with a man. The risk outside of school had always been too great, and in a town such as theirs, all secrets became known eventually, so there was no one he would have been able to trust, even if he’d found any of the young men particularly arresting. It came back to him rather quickly, how to relax his throat when he took Michael’s cock into his mouth, making him twist on the sheets and gasp wordlessly above him. How to stave off his own orgasm and focus on breathing through his nose as the head of Michael’s cock hit the back of his throat and nearly made his eyes water. Michael kept making such pitiful sounds, whimpering and begging as Harvey brought him closer and closer to his climax. But he pulled away before he reached it and Michael gave a stubborn, frustrated moan.

“Oh,” the boy gasped, arching off the bed. “Oh god, s-sir please-”

“Please what?” Harvey asked.

“Don’t be such a tease. Either get to the point or let me do it, don’t make me suffer like this.” Michael snapped, eyes screwed shut as if not looking upon Harvey would make it easier to control himself. 

Harvey laughed and went for the small bottle of massage oil he kept in the bathroom. “I never said you weren’t allowed to touch yourself, Michael.” he called over his shoulder. “By all means if I’m an inadequate partner-”

A grateful moan met his ears from the other room. Michael had taken his cock in hand, his head tipped back and throat bared to the room. “You are hardly an inadequate partner, Harvey. It’s just… shit, hard to be patient when I’ve been distracted by you all day.”

“Is that so?” Harvey asked, watching for a moment. Michael’s back arched up from the bed, his hand working his cock faster. 

“Yes,” he said in a voice no higher than a whimper. “But please, d-don’t let it go to your head, sir.” 

Harvey settled back between Michael’s spread legs and slicked his fingers with the oil. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Spread your legs a bit wider for me.”

“I assume you’ve done this before?” 

The first finger traced a cold path around Michael’s puckered hole, pressing lightly without breaching him. “Yes, though not for many years.”

“May I… Nnh, may I ask with whom?” Slowly, Harvey began working the finger into Michael, taking care not to cause him too much pain. The slowed and lazy stroke of Michael’s hand on his own cock helped keep him strung out through the mild discomfort.

“His name was Leo.”

Leo had been a handsome young man, with dark hair that tickled his chin in soft curls and a chiseled jaw. He’d been a little conceited, but paired with his charm and soft touch, it had been forgiven. Harvey had spent a summer with him in the south of France. When it had ended, so had their friendship. At the time the abrupt ending of it all had stung, but looking back, it had been the best thing for both of them. 

“Did you love him?”

For a fleeting moment, yes, Harvey had. But he shook his head and focused on preparing Michael, stretching him with two, three, four fingers to make sure he was ready. Michael seemed to lose his clever tongue after the third finger, instead choosing to roll his hips like a whore to coax them deeper. He withdrew his fingers and lifted Michael’s hips, positioning his cock so that, as he leaned forward to kiss the boy’s swollen lips, he slid into him with one slow thrust. 

“Nngh oh god,” Michael cried against his lips. “Shit-”

“Breathe, breathe and the pain will fade-”

“It’s not pain,” he snapped, biting at Harvey’s bottom lip. “Just move, move for godsake.” 

He curled his stomach, arms hooking around Harvey’s neck, pulling him in closer and squirming until Harvey growled and started to move his hips. They set a rough and demanding rhythm, the noise they made amidst the creak of the bed and the shifting of the sheets loud enough to be heard out in the hall, were anyone to pass by. Harvey prayed no one would, as Michael swore and begged for some sort of release. He got his wish some time later, Harvey’s fingers curling around his neglected cock and stroking him in time with the thrust of his hips, until Michael arched off the bed and his back bowed, his mouth open in a silent, gasping shout. Harvey followed not long after, Michael holding him tightly as he came, whimpering into Michael’s neck.

“So, I must ask, sir,” Michael said, trying to catch his breath.

“What’s that?” Harvey mumbled in reply.

“Better than Leo?”

The sputtered, surprised laughter that followed made Harvey feel lighter than he had in years. “Yes,” he said, kissing Michael’s nose, “Far better than old Leo.”

“Good,” it was said with a self satisfied smile. Harvey kissed it away and went to clean them both up, before settling in for the night. When Michael asked if he should leave, return to his quarters, Harvey told him not to bother and dragged him back under the warm covers. Having someone sleeping next to him, curled around him and holding on tight, put him at such an ease that his insomnia didn’t bother him. He had no bad dreams, never woke once from a phantom thought. Not until dawn. And even then, Michael was still pressed against his side, a small smile on his face.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> enter scumbag stage right

As it was Sunday, Harvey had to be awake and properly dressed for Mass. When his father had been alive they hadn’t attended as regularly, mostly because Gordon hadn’t been overly fond of the Vicar, Daniel Hardman. But with their mother crowing about honoring the lord, every sunday he and his brother accompanied her to the church, despite having plenty of other things to do.

“Are the servants to attend?” Michael asked, the sun barely risen. He sat in bed as Harvey tried to wake himself up. He’d never been a morning person, school hadn’t helped, and often Donna or Susanna would have to come and wake him. 

“Not unless you want to,” Harvey said from the bathroom where he was washing his face with cold water. “Often Mr. Thomas will read scripture here to those interested in listening. Cook might lead you all in prayer. But otherwise you have the morning and most of the day to rest.”

“That’s kind of you.”

“My father’s idea. The good book says it’s the day of rest, he thought it should apply to those who work the hardest.”

“Your father, was he a kind man to everyone?” Michael asked, pulling his knees into his chest, watching Harvey freshen up.

“More or less. Unless you gave him a reason not to be kind.”

“You must get it from him then.”

“Get what from him?”

“Your kindness.”

That made Harvey pause. Because while it was common knowledge around the Manor that he had inherited some bit of his father’s immeasurable kindness, the fact that every other soul within twenty miles thought him to be cold and unfeeling had meant no one ever felt the need to mention it. How funny it was that the boy mentioned it as Harvey was putting on his so called “Cold and Unfeeling” armor. 

“Have… Have I said something wrong milord?”

“No, not at all.” Harvey set about getting dressed, wearing the proper black suit that came with the role of a mourning son. Five years had passed and yet it was still expected at church functions, especially for their mother. “Once I’m ready I’ll escort you down to the kitchens, make it seem like you and I were tending to something in the study.” He ignored the giggle. “As for what you tell your friend about where you were last night, well that’s up to you.”

“Oh, Trevor won’t care.”

“Oh?”

“He never notices when I’m gone. Or when I’m there,” Michael said with a hint of melancholy. “So long as I’m not causing him trouble that is.”

“If you’re sure.”

And he was.

The moment Harvey slid into the carriage besides his brother, Miss Scott and Lady Lily sitting across from them, his armor slid into place. His smile took on a sharp edge, back straight, jaw set, gaze sharp and vigilant in a way that Marcus always said unsettled him a bit.

“Are you quite alright, Lord Harvey?” Miss Scott asked as they made their way, her delicate brow furrowed in concern.

“Quite.”

He greeted the congregation with a cool smile and a polite tone, letting them fawn over Miss Scott as much as they liked. It meant less fawning over himself and Marcus, which was something he was always grateful for. Though they did ask endlessly about the ball, who would attend, was it to be costume, was he not so unbearably excited about the whole ordeal?

“Simply ecstatic, I assure you,” he offered in reply, trying to keep his temper. The sooner the morning affairs were taken care of, he could return to the manor, lock himself in the study, and focus on the more important matters, like the budget for the ball and whether or not the previous night had in fact been a horrible mistake.

He didn’t think it was, not really. He’d wanted Michael, he’d gotten Michael, and now as he sat in the pews trying not to laugh at the irony of the whole thing (not two weeks before, Vicar Hardman had given a sermon on sins of the flesh that had left Harvey doubled over in silent laughter when he began, very uncomfortably, condemning men who were lusting after other men), he couldn’t shake Michael from his mind. Maybe they might go riding again, later in the afternoon if he could steal him away from Miss Scott. Or maybe they’d choose another play and he’d let the boy continue reeducating him in the ways of theatre. Anything, he thought to himself, to simply have the boy at his side.

Oh god, he realized with a small feeling of dread.

He was beginning to sound like the heroines in Donna’s novels and Marcus’ operas. In fact he was pretty certain he’d heard one of them chatting about a story very much like the situation he now found himself in. 

It was such a humorous realization that he nearly burst into laughter in the middle of Vicar Hardman’s sermon on various-sin-of-the-week. Ah well, the old man hated Harvey enough as it was. A few stray giggles would do very little to worsen or better that fact.

“You found something amusing during my sermon, Lord Specter?” Vicar Hardman asked as they were attempting to leave. Lady Lily had decided she must speak with several families before doing so, introduce Miss Scott, leaving Harvey and Marcus standing awkwardly by the door.

“No, Vicar, not in the slightest. I found it most inspiring.” Harvey said with only a hint of sarcasm in his voice. 

The Vicar didn’t fail to hear it. “Lying is not a good trait in a man, my lord.”

“Nor is it a good trait in a Vicar, I find.”

“Harvey mother is calling,” Marcus said quickly. Their mother wasn’t calling, but it was enough of an excuse for the young man to drag his brother away from the Vicar, before he made a scene. “Why must you goad him like that?”

“Because he’s a rotten man who uses the good book to defend himself. And he smells.”

“He doesn’t smell!”

“Yes he does.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

Harvey didn’t mention the way Vicar Hardman looked at their mother, like she was something to be taken. Or how she looked back at him practically daring him to make an advance. Marcus was unaware of it, and unaware he’d stay. 

His mother and Miss Scott did not ride home with them. They instead decided to have tea and spend the afternoon with Lady Lily’s friends in the village, leaving the boys to make the trip back alone. They were welcomed by Cook with open arms and a late breakfast, which they shared with the staff in the kitchen. Once they’d finished eating, Harvey retreated to his study and locked the door, taking the needed time to let down his guard once more. 

Of course, locked doors were never able to stop Donna.

“So,” She said, appearing out of no where on the sofa, ignoring Harvey’s shout of surprise. “How’d it go with little Michael?”

“Damn it, Donna, can you not sneak up on people like that? It’s cruel, not to mention you’ll throw me into an early grave and-”

“Oh you slept with him,” she said in a weak groan.

“I… I never said that.”

“You didn’t need to, you look like a proper virgin on the day after her wedding.”

“I do not.”

“You do a bit.”

Harvey sighed in frustration. “Yes ok? I took him to bed last night and I would apologize if it were a mistake but it’s not so please, for all our sakes, let it be.”

Donna stared at him in amused surprise. “You sound as if you almost care about him.”

“I don’t. Not… Not really.”

“Liar.”

“You are not helping.”

“As I see it,” Donna said, patting the cushion next to her. Harvey sighed and sat down. “You can either cut it off now, end it before either of you get too attached, and you can sulk about the place feeling miserable until he goes.”

“Which you think is a poor choice.”

“I do.”

“Why?” Harvey asked. “How could this possibly end well? How could you look at this situation and deem it a good one?”

“Because you’re smiling more. Because you’re humming to yourself again.” Donna grinned at him. “And perhaps it’s simply the effects of courtship but you seem lighter and almost sunny.”

“Sunny?” Harvey repeated and Donna rolled her eyes at him.

“I’m a housekeeper not a poet,” she said. “But yes.”

There was a soft and hurried knock at the door, followed by a faint “Lord Specter are you there?”

“No,” he called back as Donna laughed softly.

“Sir, it’s Michael.”

He was moving to unlock the door before Michael had finished speaking and Donna had trouble controlling her laughter. 

“What’s wrong?” Harvey asked, pulling the door open and ushering Michael inside, expecting some sort of emergency. Michael just beamed at him and stood on his toes to kiss him. 

Donna squawked, dropping onto the couch in a fit of laughter. “Oh Harvey he’s precious.”

Michael panicked. “Oh god, I’m sorry sir, I didn’t know-”

“Shush, stop, it’s alright,” Harvey said quickly, closing and locking the door again. “Donna is a friend.”

“Why do you think this coward made to court you in the first place?” Donna said.

“You- oh,” Michael’s face flushed. “Thank you, I s’pose, ma’am.”

“You can thank me by not getting him or yourself arrested. Seem fair?”

“Completely,” Michael seemed calmer. “I am sorry, though.”

“It’s alright,” Harvey kissed his forehead. “Was there something you needed?”

“Uhm, no, Cook said you had locked yourself up here I just wanted to see you for a moment.”

Donna stood. “Then I will leave you boys to it. Try not to make too much of a mess, otherwise the maids will start asking questions.” She made for the door and stopped. “Oh and Michael?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Don’t ever steal my keys again.” She smiled at him, sharp and lethal, before leaving them in silence with the heavy click of the lock.

“She scares me,” Michael said after a moment.

“She scares everyone.” Harvey told him, settling back on the sofa. “We’ve been friends since childhood, trust me, everyone is afraid of her.”

“Even you?” Michael asked crawling onto the sofa next to him.

“Especially me.” He guided Mike onto his lap and offered him a tired smile. “But she’s a good soul. Takes care of us. So I learn to live with the fear.”

“And she won’t tell anyone?”

“No. She won’t.”

“Good,” Michael said, leaning in for a kiss.

They weren’t able to spend the night together, as Michael and Trevor accompanied Ray to gather Lady Lily and Miss Scott from town after supper. But the small smile Michael shot him when they returned made the night alone worth it, as did the promise of seeing him at dawn.

But dawn came with an omen instead.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wheelchair races and feelings

Michael had never felt so lost at Trevor’s side before. They sat in their shared room, Trevor dressing for the day, Michael already prepared and waiting on his bed. He sat in silence as the sounds of the staff rushing about outside their door could be heard.

“Somethings wrong,” He said softly.

Trevor snorted. “There’s a long list of things that are wrong with this place.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true. I mean really, Michael.”

“It’s a nice home. And they’re a nice family.”

“They’re ridiculous and embarrassing most of the time. It’s a miracle they have a title at all.”

“You should remember yer place Trevor,” Michael snapped. He stood form the bed and adjusted his jacket.

Trevor paused, fingers on his cufflinks and turned to him with a frown. “My place? I should remember my place? Who was it who embarrassed us both the moment we arrived? Who was it who spent the day as a petty farm hand, encouraging the Lord’s eccentricities?”

“He’s not eccentric-”

“And who wouldn’t be here, at a house you seem to love oh so much, without me?” Trevor said coldly.

Michael froze, his hand on the door knob, trying not to let his nerves show.

“If anyone should remember their place, Michael, it’s you. You are an uneducated Scot with an endless string of bad luck.” Trevor’s voice was clipped and matter of fact as he spoke, doing up his cufflinks and tying his cravat. “You are here because I was able to get us the job. Not because you are of any real value to Miss Scott or Lord Specter. Am I understood?”

The only response Trevor got was the door slamming behind Michael as he stormed out of the room. Trevor wasn’t completely wrong though. Not really. He was, in a manner of speaking, uneducated. And he did have rotten luck. And it was continuous bad luck it seemed, starting with his parent’s dying and now ending with an affair that would surely put him in a noose when it ended. 

But he refused to believe that he was of no value. And he was starting to think that maybe his place wasn’t in Trevor’s shadow.

However, something more important required his attention-

Why was the household in a nervous panic?

And where on earth was Harvey?

Donna found him wandering the halls. “Oh good, someone who’s semi-competent.”

“Uhm, thank you?”

“It was hardly a compliment just come with me,” Donna ordered, dragging Michael along.

“What’s happened? Why is everyone in a panic?”

“Nothing to concern yourself with. Just keep your head down and do what I say and everything will be fine.”

“And Lord-”

“Don’t,” Donna whirled on him. “Don’t presume that just because he fancies you that suddenly you are his first priority. You are a sweet boy and any other day I would take you straight to him. But today you keep your head down and mind your tongue. Am I understood?”

He nodded, his worry mounting with the way Donna’s brow furrowed and her eyes seemed panicked. “At least tell me if he is alright.”

She couldn’t seem to do that.

Donna turned him into a veritable gopher once he stopped asking questions. Trevor was left to help Miss Scott, who, along with Lady Lily, seemed to be the only ones both not awake and not in a blind panic.  
Michael carried fresh linens up to the bedrooms, but was not permitted past Mary. He helped a man in a plain black suit, who arrived from town unannounced in a simple carriage, carry his heavy leather bag up to the bedrooms but was again not allowed past Mary. He was enlisted to help Cook and Matilda prepare broth, tea, and light biscuits, and to carry them up to the bedrooms where Mary took the tray and left him standing in the corridor like a lost dog.  
He helped Gregory and Lionel set the dining room for breakfast, ignored the scowl Trevor gave him when he arrived with Miss Scott and Lady Lily in tow. He helped the girls bring in the food and stood aside, as footmen were meant to do, until he could be of use.

It was only then he realized what was wrong.

“But where are Lord Harvey and Marcus?” Miss Scott asked, frowning at the table which was only set for two.  
“I am sorry, Miss,” Mr. Thomas cut in. “But Mr Marcus has taken ill and Lord Harvey is seeing to his care.”

“Taken ill? With what?”

“We do not know the specifics, but it is not uncommon for him to develop a cold or a slight fever without much warning. He is much frailer than he was when you were last staying at the Manor, I’m afraid.”

“Not to worry dear,” Lady Lily said, already beginning on her breakfast. “I’m sure he’ll be quite alright with some rest, and perfectly fine once your sisters arrive for the ball.”

No wonder the entire household was in a panic.

The favorite son was ill.

Until a quarter past noon, Michael was kept busy by the nervous staff, helping wherever it was needed. He helped the maids do a bit of cleaning, despite it being far from the job of a footman, as Trevor so kindly reminded him. Helped Donna carry supplies to the kitchen pantry when Ray arrived with the wagon from town. He was grateful to be far away from both Trevor and Miss Scott, among people who found him useful, who remembered his name, who took a moment to greet him. It was much nicer than Miss Scott’s home, where the only acknowledgment they received, well he received since the daughters all loved Trevor so dearly, were barking orders or a cold shoulder. He felt useful and wanted, by everyone, not just Harvey. It was a strange feeling but one he found he’d work hard to keep.

Finally, as Lady Lily and Miss Scott finished their lunches and decided to call on Baron Litt and his family for afternoon tea and a bit of theater, Trevor’s scowl was no longer haunting his every step. Trevor and Gregory accompanied the ladies in the carriage, leaving Mike to fill Gregory’s place. 

“Michael, dear,” Cook asked. “Can you please take this upstairs? Lord Harvey’s not eaten a thing today and I’m worried for him.”

Mary was no longer guarding the door, now that Lady Lily and Miss Scott had left. It turned out that Lady Lily liked to meddle and pester when Marcus was ill, rather than actually do anything to help. And the staff had been worried that Miss Scott might have tried to drag Harvey away from his brother. So once they were no longer a threat, Mary had abandoned her post, leaving Michael to make his way up to the bedrooms with a tray of food and nervous that almost made his hands shake. 

Matilda was seated outside with her dolls. She looked up with a sad smile when Michael reached her. “Don’t knock, methinks Misser Marcus might have finally fallen asleep. You can just go in.”

“Thank you, sweet heart.” 

He wasn’t sure what he expected to find. The Doctor had left hours before, amidst the hustle and bustle of lunch. Only Donna and Mary had been allowed in to see Marcus. Michael stepped inside and carefully closed the door behind him.

On the bed lay Marcus, who had in fact finally fallen asleep. His pale face was relaxed with peace, his wild hair curled across the pillows. A wet cloth rested on his forehead to help keep the fever down, but otherwise, there was nothing to indicate he was ill. He looked like the subject of a renaissance painting, pale and fragile against the rich fabric of the bed. Were the circumstances not so heartbreaking, he’d be nothing but beautiful. At his side, sat his brother. He hadn’t moved since Susanna had fetched him before dawn, with worried news that Marcus was running another fever. He’d sent Lionel for the Doctor and had placed himself at his brother’s bedside with no intent to leave whatsoever. His brow was furrowed, his face dark with an old, haunting emotion Michael wasn’t sure he could name. He was still dressed in his nightshirt and trousers, hair in complete disarray and his jaw unshaved. His body sank into the chair as if it carried far too much weight, more weight than any young man should have to carry. And his hand held tightly to his brother’s, tracing his delicate knuckles in melancholy reverence.

Never before had Michael witnessed so much love in something so painful. 

“Harvey,” he called softly. He didn’t respond, his eyes closed. Michael set down the tray and went to him, touching his shoulder. “Harvey.”

The touch jolted the lord back into consciousness. “What?”

“Shush it’s alright-” Michael soothed. “Cook was worried about you. She had me bring up some tea and something for you to eat.”

Harvey shook his head. “I’m not hungry.”

“Harvey you need to eat something.”

“I said no.”

Michael sighed. “Marcus would want you to eat.”

Harvey glared up at him. “That was a low manipulation, Michael.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not true.” He hesitated to touch Harvey’s shoulder again, but he did. “At least have some tea.”

It seemed like Harvey would argue, but he gave a weak nod and Michael brought the tray over to him and sat it on the bed. “How is he?”

“Fever has gone down. The Doctor says it’s only a mild cold but even the smallest thing can keep him bedridden,” Harvey said, Michael pouring the tea and pressing a cup into his hands. “He’s been given his medicine and should be feeling better by tomorrow or the day after, according to the Doctor. I just hope he’s right.”

“Has he been wrong often?”

“No, not yet anyway. He said he’d return tomorrow no matter what, to make sure he is improving.”

“Then that is good news,” Michael assured him. “If your brother is anything like yourself then he’ll be bounding around the house before noon tomorrow.”

“That’s the trouble,” Harvey said softly. “He’s not. He’s my father’s son in an out. He’s not built for tragedy or suffering.”

“Your father was not-”

“My father was stubborn but always adaptable. If something did not go his way he would find a new method or a new task entirely. He was spirited and he was joyous. He was passion incarnate. Marcus is the same. I, sadly, did not inherit those traits.” He expression turned cold. “My mother is the resilient one. She is stubborn and vindictive and cruel when things do not go according to her plan. She fights. I, it seems, am more like her after all.” 

Michael looked to Marcus, still wrapped up in slumber, and tried to see whatever it was Harvey could see when he looked at his brother. Maybe he saw his father and felt bitterness, because he was jealous of his brother’s spirit. Or maybe it was that he couldn’t keep him safe from the realities of the world, and that angered him. 

“That is hardly a bad thing,” he said after a moment. “Your mother might not be kind, but you have your father’s loving heart.”

“It will be a bad thing if Marcus does not recover. I have already lost one person I’ve loved. I don’t right think I can survive losing another.”

It was a truth Michael was familiar with. But it was not his moment to grieve. He took Harvey’s hand and held it tightly in his own, joining him in the silent vigil at Marcus’s bedside.  
Marcus awoke several hours later to find them still sitting besides the bed, Michael curled around Harvey’s arm, fast asleep. Maybe it should have worried him that his brother was sharing that level of intimacy with a servant, or more importantly, a man. But Harvey looked so at peace, with their fingers entwined and his cheek resting on Michael’s messy hair, that he found himself grateful for it. That, and had he not been struck by fever, he had imagined himself a Thespian. And Thespians were not ones to judge who found themselves in the beds of others. 

The next day, on a bright tuesday morning, Michael was introduced to the grand Specter Tradition (that had only been in practice for three years) of Wheelchair Races. Marcus, once he had recovered from the core of the fever, had been given the finest wheelchair money could buy (Harvey had taken the search and purchase very seriously) and a second one had followed the year after, so he would have more than one in case he fancied a trip outside on a day his body decided to fight him. And because he and Harvey were still children at heart, the moment their mother had left the house, they’d resorted to racing the chairs through the main floor corridor. It had been one of the few ways to get Marcus out of bed and laughing, and thus it had become a tradition amongst the house. Even the footmen and maids took part, much to the chagrin of Lady Lily.  
After Marcus had stomached breakfast, and Harvey had eaten as well, they got the chairs ready in the main corridor and Harvey carried his brother downstairs. Matilda was already seated in the second wheelchair, waiting for them with her dolls and a sunny smile. Once Marcus was situated and he properly told Harvey off for fussing over him, Donna stood in front of them with a handkerchief and counted down.

Matilda won.

The third race was coming to a close, Matilda racing Gregory down the corridor, Marcus sitting on the sidelines with Harvey and Michael, when Lady Lily appeared in a fury.

“What the devil is going on?” She shrieked. Poor Gregory almost crashed when he tried to stop. Matilda didn’t bother and she won her third race. 

“We’re racing what does it look like?” Marcus asked, applauding as Matilda turned her chair around and started making her way back to them. Gregory ducked his head and slowly walked the other chair back.

“Well I can see that,” Lady Lily snapped. “Did it occur to anyone how ridiculously improper it is to do so, inside, in the corridor, with the staff?” She shouted, ignoring everyone but her two sons.

“No, not really,” Harvey said with a shrug. Her face turned an awful shade of purple as Miss Scott appeared at her side. Michael had never seen her so shocked and confused before.

“What on earth-”

“Ah, Miss Scott,” Marcus greeted with his gorgeous smile. “Would you care to join us for a race?”

Lady Lily replied for her. “No she would not like to join your childish shenanigans! You two should be ashamed of yourselves. The viscount and his brother acting like animals!”

Harvey and Marcus looked at each other. 

“I didn’t realize animals had wheelchairs,” Marcus said.

“Or that they wore trousers,” Harvey added. 

Michael watched them in astonishment. Lady Lily stared at her sons in a strange mix of disgust and fury, but he could see a touch of desperation in her eyes, and the question of where had she gone wrong in raising her sons. 

“Unless you plan to join in the fun, Mother, do step aside. You’re blocking the way and I’d rather not explain to the doctor that you got run over by an invalid in a wheelchair,” Harvey said, helping Matilda out of her wheelchair and helping Marcus into it. 

She apparently didn’t want to join in the fun. She threw up her hands and let out a screech of frustration, before storming off down the corridor, leaving Miss Scott staring after her, utterly lost.  
“You’re welcome to join us,” Marcus told her. “But I would understand if you deemed it inappropriate.”

“Uhm,” Miss Scott looked almost interested, like she’d never thought of racing down the corridors in a chair with wheels before. But Trevor, silent and unnerving as ever, Mike noted, came calling for her.

“Your sister is arriving in town in a short while. Would you like to go meet her?” he asked, not forgetting to shoot Michael a dirty look.

“Y-yes I suppose I should,” she said and Michael heard the disappointment on her lips. “My apologies Mister Marcus. But please, enjoy yourselves. If you’re still racing when I return perhaps-”

“We can race tomorrow,” Marcus promised her. “I’ll be sure to remember.”

“That’s very kind of you,” She said.

“Gregory, go fetch Ray please,” Harvey said, and off the footman went. “He’ll take you both to town. It’ll be safer.”

“Thank you, Lord Harvey.”

The moment she and Trevor were gone, the races resumed, Mary taking the other chair and lining up at the start line with Marcus. 

“Seems like your friend thinks you’re a traitor,” Harvey said to Michael with a grin.

Michael shrugged. “Maybe I am. I don’t right care.”

“No?”

“No,” the boy shook his head. “Feel more at home here than I ‘ere did with him and Miss Scott, that’s for damn sure.” He paled. “Sorry that wasn’t proper of me to-”

“It’s alright, Michael.” Harvey messed up his hair. “No one here really minds.”

And maybe that was what he loved most about it. Sure, Harvey was a plus, but no one at The Manor really cared that he wasn’t properly trained or perfectly mannered. If fact they seemed to like him better for it. It was a relief.

The races finished around lunch and they ate out in the courtyard, despite the nippy temperature, so Marcus could get some fresh air before the doctor arrived and he was sent back to bed. Most of the staff returned to work, but Donna, Matilda, and Michael joined the brothers. They ignored the huffing and puffing from Lady Lily and munched on bread and chicken and fruit on the blanketed grass. 

“Ride into town with me?” Harvey asked Michael as they helped Marcus back upstairs. “I was going to wait till the doctor left and then take care of some business in town. Your company would be much appreciated.”

“You sure Miss Scott won’t mind you borrowing me?”

“She’s not here to say otherwise.”

“Fair enough.” 

“Meet me in the stables then, I must wait for the doctor.”

Once Michael was out of sight and the brothers were making their way down the corridor alone, Marcus fixed his brother with an amused look.

“What?”

“You’re full of surprises, brother.” Marcus said poking Harvey in the side.

“How so?”

“A footman? Really?” He laughed at the startled look on Harvey’s face. “Oh don’t look like that, I won’t tell.”

Harvey helped him into bed. “And you… You aren’t angry with me?”

“Oh no, goodness no. It is strange. And I don’t want to think about what happens behind closed doors. But Mike seems a good soul, I like him. And more importantly, he makes you smile. And you hardly do that enough.” Marcus grinned at him. “And don’t worry, I won’t tell.”

“Thank you,” Harvey kissed his brother’s forehead. “You’re too good for me, Marcus.”

“Oh stop with the mush.” Marcus scolded, hugging Harvey. “It doesn’t suit you, you oaf.”

The tightness of the hug and the warmth of his younger brother in his arms helped to ease whatever worries Harvey had.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more feelings

“If your mother or Miss Scott sees me wearing these furs it’ll be my head.”

Their departure for town was delayed, though Harvey could hardly bring himself to be angry. Michael had locked them in the barn long enough to have a moment or two of peace between them, leaving Harvey with yet another dusting of bite marks across his collar bone and shoulder, and Michael with sore ass.

“They’ll never know it’s hardly something to be so worried about,” Harvey told him, pulling Thyme to a stop as Michael caught up, wrapped in one of Harvey’s old fur cloaks. “And it’s better than you falling ill in this cold.”

Michael grinned at him. “Oh dear it’s almost as if you care.”

“What?”

“Don’t think I didn’t hear you and Miss Donna when you were hiding in your study.”

“Oh I-”

“No, no I don’t care, not really,” Michael said in a terrible mockery of Harvey’s voice. “No not me, the mighty viscount.”

“I do not sound like that.”

“Oh yes you do,” Michael’s smile turned mischievous. With the thick hood of the cloak framing his face he looked like a fairytale creature, out to ruin Harvey completely. Wasn’t so far from the truth, when Harvey thought about it.”

“It wasn’t meant to upset you,” Harvey offered in apology as they continued on their way.

“Please, were I upset I’d be making your life hell. I find it amusing, if anything. God forbid you care for a person.” Michael brought his horse up along side Thyme and leaned in to kiss Harvey quickly. “Maybe I’ll make it a game, see how many times I can get you to slip up in a day.”  
Before Harvey could lean in and steal another kiss, Michael gave his horse a gentle nudge and took off down the road ahead of him, looking back at Harvey with a teasing grin.

Needless to say, it did become a game for Michael. A game that would continue long after the ball.

They met with Baron Litt for lunch, an old friend of Harvey’s with whom he’d attended Oxford. Louis had recently been married to a beautiful and terrifying woman, but she no doubt made Louis very happy, since she was almost all he talked about. 

“And who’s this then?” Louis asked, finally taking note of Michael’s presence. “I don’t remember you hiring a new footman.”

“I’m borrowing him for the day,” Harvey explained. “He’s employed to Miss Scott.”

Louis made a sound of sympathy. “Oh is she back at the Manor then?”

“Till the ball this saturday at least.”

“Good God, you poor man.”

“I take it, Sir, that you’re not a fan of Miss Scott?” Michael asked with a hint of timidness.

“No, no I am not all that much a fan. I allowed her presence the first time because this imbecile claimed to be in live,” Louis clapped Harvey on the shoulder. “As we can all see, he was sorely mistaken.”

“She is hardly a bad woman,” Michael replied.

“I never said she was. But she was bad for him. And that is all there is to it.”

“Alright, enough debating my failed romances. Louis I heard from Lady Haddington that the firm is set to grow again with the new year?”

“Oh expanding two fold if I’m not mistaken.” Louis sat back in his seat with a smug smile. “So I believe you owe me for that wager.”

“You are in the legal business?” Michael asked.

“Lord Specter and I founded a firm when we left school. Though when his father took ill he had to return home, obviously.” Louis explained. “And when I married and took the family title properly I did the same. We still run the firms from afar though.”

“That’s brilliant,” Michael.

“We like to think so.”

“Have you ever thought about attending school, Michael?” Harvey asked, ignoring the look from Louis.

“No sir, I would never be able to afford it. And besides I’m not of any notoriety, so not likely to be accepted.” Michael said it with a touch of bitterness in his voice that made Harvey drop the conversation for the moment. But he had an idea or two that might make Michael change his mind.

Tea was wrapped up with a somewhat rousing discussion of the ball and Louis’ thoughts on the guest list, which never failed to make Harvey laugh as Louis tore through just about everyone. When the Baroness returned home and Louis was swept off by her, Harvey and Michael decided to wander the town a bit, before heading home.

It was in the market where they made the acquaintance of one Mr. Zane and his youngest daughter Rachel.

Harvey had only met Rachel once or twice in passing and barely a word had been spoken. But he remembered her sharp, dark eyes and warm brown skin, the freckles that dusted her delicate nose and the rich coffee color of her hair. She was a beautiful girl and as her and her father approached he could understand why his mother had placed her high on the list of guests. 

“Lord Specter,” Mr. Zane said offering a hand in greeting. “Fancy seeing you out and about on such a cold day.”

“I had business,” Harvey said simply, “Hello Miss Rachel.”

“Lord Specter,” she greeted in a soft voice. Michael nodded hello and she smiled at him while her father carried on the conversation.

“I hear everyone is all excited for this ball the Lady Specter is throwing. Finally decided to raise a family of your own have we?”

“In some respects, yes, though this was entirely my mother’s idea. I am told you will be attending?”

“Yes myself, the misses, and all four daughters, don’t you worry. Though it will be Rachel’s first in an attempt to find a husband.”

No one missed the poorly hidden noise of disapproval. Harvey looked to Rachel, Michael smiling in poorly disguised delight. “Is that not your goal, Miss Rachel?”

“I have told my father time and again that I do not wish to marry. He seems fixed on ignoring that point,” she said shortly.

“Rachel please-”

“And what is it you’d rather do,” Harvey asked her, “Instead of find a husband?”

“Study,” Rachel said, meeting his eye with unwavering fire. “I wish to study, my lord. I find that I have exactly as much potential in academia as my brother and I wish to prove it.”

“Rachel that is enough,” her father snapped. “This is not something to be discussing.”

“Oh on the contrary,” Harvey assured him with a sharp smile. “I find the educated woman rather inspiring. Tell me have you done much studying thus far?”

“Uh, no, my lord. Simply reading with what we have at home.”

“We’re sure her feelings on the matter will change with time,” Mr. Zane assured them. Michael nodded like he agreed but Harvey could see the effort he was putting into not smiling. 

“And I am sure they most certainly will not,” Rachel snapped at her father. 

“Miss Rachel, if it is not too bold,” Harvey cut in before her father could scold her for speaking out of turn. “Would you be interested in joining me for tea next thursday? I always pay a visit to Lady Haddington and I do think she would be very keen to meet you.”

Rachel seemed surprised. “I… would be honored, Lord Specter.”

“Wonderful and perhaps we can also take a moment to examine the libraries at the manor, if you were so keen.”

Her smile was bright and sunnier than a warm day in june. “I would like that very much.”

“That is very kind of you, Lord Specter,” Mr. Zane said quickly.

“No it is simply that I’ve recognized a certain brilliance in your daughter. And someone ought to cultivate it. Now, I must apologize but my footman and I should be on our way.” He bowed his head shortly to them both, offering Rachel a smile. “Good day to you both.”

“So did you do that because you like the young lady or because you wanted to spite her father?” Michael asked once they were out of earshot.

“Both.”

“Do you actually intend to take her to tea with you?”

“Yes, though tomorrow you’ll accompany me.”

“I will?” Michael asked, stopping in alarm. “I can’t meet a countess, sir, that’s just preposterous.”

“Her orders I’m afraid. She wants to meet you.”

“But why?”

“Because, like me, she is intrigued by you.” Harvey stopped to examine a fine fur cloak that hung in the nearest shop window. “And I’m hardly one to deny the Countess what she wants.”

“Miss Scott will hardly approve.”

“I will handle Miss Scott, not to worry.” Harvey waved him closer. “Come, I want you to try something on.”

Michael returned to his quarters that night with a new fur lined cloak of his own. 

“Where did you get that?” Trevor asked.

“It was a gift.” Michael hung the cloak by his small bed, carefully brushing it with his hand.

“From who?”

“Lord Specter.”

“What?” the confusion in Trevor’s voice made Michael smile.

“He wanted to thank me for being of so much help while his brother was bedridden. So while he was in town this afternoon, he bought it for me.” He explained with a smile. 

Trevor stared at him. “That’s ridiculous.”

“No, it’s called a reward for being a decent person,” Michael replied. 

“You don’t work for him, Michael.”

“I don’t see your point, Trevor.”

Whatever jealousy or frustration Trevor might have had when faced with an apparent gift of gratitude and affection wasn’t something he could easily put into words. He simply scowled at Mike and left him standing there in their quarters, a dopey smile on his face. 

Harvey, sadly, was not having so nice an evening.

“Why on earth would you want to take my footman with you to tea?” Miss Scott demanded. The two of them sat in the music room, Harvey motioning for her to keep her voice down.

“Because Gregory is afraid of Lady Haddington and Lionel is needed here to aid Mr. Thomas. I thought your boy might also learn a bit more from watching the staff of a Countess’ household,” Harvey explained gently, but Miss Scott’s scowl didn’t fade.

“You invite my footman to meet this infamous Countess but not me.”

“Dana-”

“No. No you’re going to tell me the truth,” she stood in front of him, face seething with anger. “You’re going to tell me why all you’ve been doing is avoiding me since my arrival.”

“Dana that’s not what I’ve been doing I-”

“Yes it is!” She snapped. “I have spent more time with your mother than with you and I don’t understand. Have you chosen someone else? Is that it? Finally found another woman worth your time and you just don’t feel like telling me the truth?”

“On the contrary I’ve accepted my fate as a unmarried, unloved, bastard who will wither with age in this very house,” Harvey shot back, getting to his feet. 

“What-”

“Because no one, not a soul, has been able to compare to you and nothing has come as close to what I felt for you and what you handed back to me because it wasn’t enough.”

Miss Scott stared up at him and all at once he was in love with her again. And It hurt. It burned his chest and tore at his vocal chords. “I loved you. And I still love you. But I am unwilling to place my faith and my love in your hands again knowing you will leave.”

“But I have changed,” Miss Scott insisted. “I am not that same child, Harvey.”

“Nor am I.”

And there it was, the realization that the blame was not wholly placed on her delicate shoulders. The realization that he also had grieved and that he had grown and he had changed, and was likely no longer the man she’d fallen in love with. Her face fell for a moment, before a small, distant smile appeared.

“We’re quite hopeless aren’t we, Harvey?” she asked.

He mirrored her smile and kissed her forehead. “Quite hopeless, I’m afraid.”

“Your mother’s going to be so disappointed,” Miss Scott said in weak amusement. “She was already dropping hints about what we’d name our children.”

“Oh no, you deserve far better children than the ones I’d give you,” Harvey said with such sincerity that Miss Scott found herself laughing. “And as for my mother, she can kindly take her opinions and-”

“Careful, Harvey, it’s not good to speak ill of one’s mother.”

“No, I suppose you’re right.”

She laughed again and stepped closer, pressing her face into the fabric of his shirt. “I’m sorry if I’ve caused you trouble this past week.”

“I should apologize. I’ve been a terrible host and a far worse friend.”

“I do believe we could be friends. Just grow old together, mock the youth and their foolishness.”

Harvey chuckled and kissed her dark hair. “Now that does sound like a marvelous future.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know what they say about "Well things could always be worse" ?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone sorry for how long its taken me to update and how little of an update this might seem. things have been very hectic in my little bubble but im trying to get on track. there will be more with the next two or three chapters, more fun, i promise.
> 
> enjoy

The conservatory at the Haddington Estate was a lovely room, with large crystal windows that cast glittering and colorful light across the room when the sun hit them just right. And with the cold late autumn sun filtering in, Harvey found himself staring up at the ceiling, tracing the patterns of red and blue and yellow. It was all he could do, having been banished from the study over an hour before.  
He and Michael had sat down for tea with Lady Jessica, Michael fidgeting and offering his timid smile. The conversation had been polite and Harvey hadn’t found any cause for alarm. They had shared the simplified version of how their ridiculous affair had began, to Lady Jessica’s amusement, sparing her from the finer less appropriate details. She had voiced surprise at Michael’s well versed knowledge of Shakespeare, praised him for it even if she considered it odd for a footman.

“They are more complex than other books I have access to, madame,” Michael explained. “That and they keep me occupied longer, allow my mind to work harder. I can remember all of them down to the last detail, so it provides a constant mental exercise.”

“What is your favorite passage, Michael?” She challenged, glancing at Harvey with an amused smile, hidden behind the rim of her china cup.

Then Michael had begun reciting passages from The Tempest, word for word without any assistance. 

Harvey had been banished from the study not long after. Which was why he was stretched out on one of the fainting couches, shoes off, staring aimlessly at the ceiling, waiting, hoping that Michael hadn’t been devoured and would come find him soon.

When the door opened however, it was Lady Jessica who entered.

“Heavens its about time. What have you done with him? Strung him up by his ankles? Put him to work in your archives? Run him completely out of town?” Harvey asked, sitting up. He frowned at her severe expression. “Jessica? What’s wrong?”

“You need to keep this boy, Harvey.”

“I… Sorry?”

She moved to sit next to him. “I have met many, many men who think themselves scholars. Most are filled with egos and hot air, not a drop of actual wisdom or intellect. Your boy… He’s different, Harvey.”

“Well, yes I-”

“No matter what I asked him to recite, he could recite it. I handed him one of Newton’s manuscripts, which he had never seen before, had him read it and proceed to explain it to me on paper.”

“And?”

She handed a folded bit of parchment to him. “He understands it perfectly. Even applied it to several equations. Without any time to practice the theory.”

Mathematics had never been Harvey’s strong suit, even with his schooling and time at Oxford. But regardless of how well he understood it, Michael’s scrawled handwriting across the page in his hands made Lady Jessica’s point quite clear. Michael was far more intelligent than anyone had anticipated of him. More intelligent, and employed far below his skill set.

“He has the potential to be one of the greatest scholars of the age,” Lady Jessica said fondly. 

“Aye, that he does.”

“And you have the chance to help him reach that potential.”

He looked up with a frown. “I don’t understand. He won’t attend school, no matter how much I insist. Not to mention he isn’t my servant to do with what I will. He is employed to Miss Scott you know this.”

“He is unhappy in this employment you and I both know this. Perhaps it is something you should discuss with Miss Scott when you return home, see if there may be an opportunity for him to stay at The Manor.” She sighed. “As for his education, he isn’t yet ready for university, but I can train him until he is.”

“You… Are oddly invested in a child you’ve only just met,” Harvey observed.

“Yes, I suppose I am. But there was another child I took the same interest in once upon a time, or have you forgotten,” Lady Jessica smiled at him. 

He laughed softly. “As if I could forget a childhood spent in your delicate care.” He sat back and gazed up at the colorful light. “Where is the boy now?”

“Reading. I’ve given him full access to my libraries. Any time he wishes to visit. I’ve not yet suggested the invitation to study here, I thought I should discuss it with you first. But I do think it is in his best interest.”

“There is another.”

“Hmm?”

“Another potential student,” Harvey said. “You have heard at least of the Zane family, yes?”

“Yes, I have made their acquaintance. Why?”

“The youngest daughter, Miss Rachel. She is a precocious and clever young thing. She would do well under your care.”

“I had heard she was meant to marry within the year.”

“Only if her father has his way. I met them yesterday. She is like you,” he smiled at her. “Stubborn and brave and lovely.”

“Well I do hope you invited her to tea at the very least.”

“Next thursday in fact.”

“Good. I’ll make my judgement of her then.” Lady Jessica pulled off her heels and sat back as well. “I suppose we should give the boy time.”

“He’s probably in heaven right about now.”

“Oh I am sure he is. When I left he had found volumes of poetry.” she laughed. “I can’t bare to think what will happen when he discovers philosophy and the natural sciences.”

“We’ll never see him again.”

An hour later Harvey went to fetch Michael from the library. The boy was babbling away about everything he had read, pausing only to bow to Lady Jessica and wish her well and thank her, before following Harvey out to the horses and continuing his lecture. Harvey smiled at him, wrapped Michael in his cloak and helped him onto his horse, listening as best he could all the while.

He’d mention the studies that night, he decided. He’d would call Mike to the garden or his chambers or the study, and present him with his and Lady Jessica’s offer. If the glow of color and brightness in the boy’s eyes were any indication, then he’d surely take the offer without so much as a second thought.

Lady Lily was waiting for them when they returned to The Manor.

“Ah, mother, what glad tidings or wretched news do you have for me now?” Harvey asked, climbing off Thyme’s back and passing the reigns to Ray with a nod of thanks.

“You’re a terrible man and a horrible influence on people, I hope you know that.” His mother scowled at him, thin lipped and angry.

“I do yes but you might need to be a tad more specific as to what you’re referring to.” He waved to Michael as he followed Ray to the stables, and lead his mother back inside.

“Miss Scott spent the morning in those dreadful chairs you brought for your brother, racing up and down the corridors like barbarians. You should be ashamed of yourself for setting such a poor example.”

The image of Miss Scott and Marcus racing down the corridor made Harvey smile. He’d have to find them, ask how it had gone. He hoped Miss Scott was smiling, that Marcus had made her laugh. She’d always had such a beautiful laugh.

“Mother that is hardly a crime. She had fun, it is good for a young lady’s health to have fun and enjoy her day while she can-”

“You are insufferable!”

“Yes, mother, yes, as you have so readily informed me.”

“Why was her footman with you this morning?” Lady Lily demanded, following him through the house.

“Because she and I both agreed that seeing the workings of a Countess’ household would be good instruction for the boy, nothing more.”

“And where did he get such a fine cloak?”

Harvey stopped and turned to face his mother. “Why does it matter?”

“Because it is the very same cloak I saw in town not but two days ago and the very same cloak I suggested you purchase for yourself,” she snapped. “So tell me why a servant is now wearing it?”

“I bought it for him and a gesture of gratitude. He was of the utmost help when Marcus was bedridden. He had no cloak of his own and the weather grows colder.” Harvey shrugged. “Why you think there is more to the matter is beyond me, mother.”

She scowled at him a moment longer before turning away in a huff. “You best sort yourself out before the ball. I will not have it ruined because of your horrid behavior.”

“Fine, fine,” Harvey conceded, bowing to her slightly. “Now if you’ll excuse me.” He turned to go only to find Donna waiting nearby, clutching a letter in her hand. “Ah, Donna, what’s the news? Lady Ava can’t attend this Saturday either?”

“Where is Michael?” she asked, her voice smaller than Harvey had heard it in years.

“He… the stables with Ray… What’s wrong?”

She held up the letter. “This arrived for him while you were visiting Lady Haddington.” Harvey took it and began to read, his mother watching with her scowl still in place. “It’s his grandmother.”

The downfall of the day was swift after that. 

Michael, rather than breaking down in tears as Harvey had expected, went cold and still at the news. He stared at the letter in his hands, pale, void of expression, as Harvey waited for so much as a word. Miss Scott and Marcus had come inside from the garden to hear the news, accompanied by Trevor and Mary. Michael seemed not to notice their presence until Miss Scott asked him to put the letter away and join her for a walk.

“No. Forgive me Miss Scott, but I must leave.”

“Michael be reasonable, there’s nothing to be done from this distance and-”

“No. Forgive me Miss Scott but I must leave.” Michael said again, stepping away from her and holding tight to the letter. 

“Michael now is not the time to be insolent-”

“My grandmother is asking for me.” he said firmly. “Forgive me, but it is of greater importance than formalities.”

“Nasty little boy,” Harvey heard his mother mutter under her breath.

“Michael, we can go and visit after the ball.” Miss Scott said. “I’ll make sure the finest doctors are at her care. Come, walk with me a moment.”

“No-”

“Michael.” Trevor snapped.

“Don’t,” Michael shouted at Trevor. “Don’t you dare presume to give me orders!”

“How da-” Trevor snarled, forgetting himself long enough to take a step towards Mike. Harvey grabbed for the footman, his hand gripping his collar and dragging him back.

“You will not strike anyone in my house,” He said in a low, warning tone. Then to Michael he spoke softer. “I can arrange a horse for you, if you need it.”

Miss Scott shot him a look. “Lord Harvey he can’t possibly-”

“Then I resign.”

The room fell silent. Michael seemed completely unmoved. 

“What?” Miss Scott asked in surprise, thinking it a joke.

“I resign from your service my lady,” he bowed. “I thank you for your kindness and your hospitality, but I must regretfully resign from your house.”

“Michael…”

“I apologize to all of you for the disruption I have caused in your esteemed house,” he said, addressing Lady Lily and Harvey. “It was not my intention and I am deeply sorry. I do hope I have not done too much damage and that the ball will still be a wonderful success, Lady Lily.”

And with that, he bowed deep, before standing and turning to go without another word.

“Harvey,” Miss Scott said.

“Yes?”

“Go with him. Make sure he reaches his grandmother safely.”

“But the-” Lady Lily began to argue. Miss Scott ignored her and took Harvey’s hand in hers.

“Get him home to her safely and find the doctor. Make sure he gets there. I owe him that much.” She said.

Harvey kissed her hand. “It’s a promise.”

“I’ll go to-” Trevor said, stepping forward.

“No. You will stay here with me. Lord knows all you’ll do is upset the poor boy,” Miss Scott snapped. Trevor seemed set to argue but she fixed him with a cold and terrifying look and he fell silent.

“Be safe, brother,” Marcus said. “Let Michael take my horse, she’s fast.”

Michael was struggling with one of the other horses when Harvey found him, wrapped in his fur cloak, with his small bag of clothes slung over his shoulder.

“Ye aren’t stopping me,” Michael shouted at him. “Go back in that damned house with your family and stay out of my way!”

Harvey didn’t respond. He simply saddled up Marcus’ horse and lead her from her stable, bringing her to Michael.

“What are you-”

“I’ll go with you. Make sure you arrive safe. Miss Scott’s request.”

“I don’t…”

“This is our fastest horse, Marcus wants you to take her.”

Michael was still, staring at Harvey’s hand where it offered him the reigns. For a moment, Harvey thought the boy might cry, his face tight and his eyes wet. But he nodded instead and took the reigns, climbing up onto the horses back and waiting for Harvey to saddle and mount Thyme.

“You don’t have to do this, Harvey,” he said before they left the stables.

“I do,” Harvey offered him a soft smile. “You’re mine, are you not?”

Michael stared at him.

“That means I help you when you’re frightened.”

It took a moment, but Michael nodded slowly. “Alright. Thank you.”

“Good boy, now come, if we ride quickly we may reach her before dark.”

Harvey realized, several hours later as night began to set in and the town Michael hailed from lay at the foot of the hill, glittering in the evening light, that the last time he had rushed to a person’s bedside at such a desperate pace, and been when his own father lay dying.

Huh, funny thing, he thought to himself as he tended to the horses outside the small house Michael and his grandmother called home. He had begun to think he’d never feel that level of fear and desperation ever again.

Apparently he had been wrong.


End file.
